


The (Un)familiar Shape Of It

by Ana_Khouri



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Spoilers up until the end of S9 (Husbands of River Song), and River/Doctor are cute but this is very much Whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:05:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7552435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ana_Khouri/pseuds/Ana_Khouri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashildr met her eyes, knowing Clara Oswald had a plan she would not like.  She also knew she would help no matter her own misgivings because she could do nothing else.  Maybe she had been wrong about The Doctor.  Maybe Clara, with her hope, her compassion and her eyes, maybe she was the dangerous one.</p>
<p>*  *  *  </p>
<p>[…]“I know there is something off about you and it isn’t just that this might be the end for us or that you have a new regeneration.  It’s like part of you isn’t here,” River expounded.</p>
<p>The Doctor chuckled ruefully, looking up to meet River’s eyes.  </p>
<p>River held his eyes with her own and saw a glimmer of the battle waging inside him.  She reached up to his cheek tentatively.  </p>
<p>“What is it Doctor?” she asked softly.  </p>
<p>*  *  *  </p>
<p>Oswin tried again to open her eyes and was surprised when it worked.  She found herself laying down with her head in Nina's crosslegged lap, tight black curls framing her deep chestnut skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 1: Thank you to http://www.chakoteya.net/DoctorWho/ for being invaluable for reminding me of details I would’ve otherwise been too lazy to rewatch whole eps for. (And the occasionally very amusing psuedo-commentary.)
> 
> A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to my wife starbuck1980 for beta-ing and generally being just as damn obsessed. ; )

 

They ran into the Tardis, Me nearly bowling Clara over in her attempt to get in and shut the door against the angry townsfolk. The door clicked shut and Me turned to Clara, her breath coming in gasps. Clara watched Me, acutely aware of her own lack of respiration, as Me’s breaths turned into gasps of laughter.

"Talk about being caught red-handed," Me quipped when she was able to speak again, surveying Clara’s hands and face streaked with red.

Clara looked at her hands and smiled. She had picked up a bright red fruit on what she thought was an elaborate market stand only for it to explode in her hand. It turned out to be an altar filled with sacred fruit and they had been run out of town for their accidental blasphemy.

Me watched as Clara's smile almost made it to her eyes. It had been three weeks (relative time) since she had watched Clara say goodbye to The Doctor for the second time, three weeks since she had convinced him that Clara needed to stay dead to stop him unraveling the universe to save her. Of course The Doctor never did anything quite as expected and lost his memory of her instead but it had the same effect. Me knew it was for the best, that they were too dangerous together, but that did not make it easier to watch the pain in the back of Clara’s eyes she so desperately tried to hide.

Me took a deep breath. Despite it all she would do what she had promised The Doctor, she would take care of those he had left behind, even if this was not exactly the situation she had originally intended.

"Come on," Clara called as she exited the console room, "We still don't have a mirror in the bathroom and I'm going to need you to tell me if I got this all off," she explained as she looked up at Me and saw her curious expression.

Clara’s face softened.

"You okay?" she asked her companion.

Me's gaze lost its distance and her eyes snapped to Clara's face with a forced smile.

"Of course. Lead on," she replied simply.

They had become a lot better at communicating with the Tardis since she realised they both wanted their own rooms - they had been bunking together in Clara's large bed before the Tardis realised how grumpy her passengers became without their own space - but the details still took some time to appear.

Clara entered the light blue tiled room and stood before the larger sink as she began to scrub at her hands and the fruit she could feel on her face. She cleaned what she could before turning to Me to see what she had missed. Me tried to indicate the remaining red spots but Clara kept missing them and in the end Me took the cloth from Clara with one hand and held her chin with the other.

"Close your eyes," she instructed as she carefully brought the cloth to Clara's face and gently wiped off the offending bits of colour.

Me swallowed as she lightened her grip on Clara’s chin, acutely aware of the breathless, pulseless body in front of her. She tried to think of something to say to distract from the way her breathing had become uneven but her mind could only settle on the guilt that had been growing inside her despite her best efforts.

"I'm sorry about the Raven," she acknowledged bluntly, pulling her hand back as Clara's eyes opened. She had not quite meant for it to come out like that but at least the shock of the admission lessened the intensity she had been feeling.

"Not the plan, I would do that again to save the street,” she clarified, trying to gain back some of her bravado as her mouth went dry, “but that you were hurt," she admitted, looking at Clara with a bald honesty.

Clara felt the acknowledgement resonate between them. It was a glimpse of the unassuming Ashildr she remembered before time had worn her away and she desperately wanted to say something to encourage that light buried inside her.

"I think I got it all,"' Me added in the silence, shifting her eyes and moving towards the sink to rinse out the cloth as Clara stepped away to allow her access.

Clara nodded, letting the silence extend as she tried to think of a response to Me’s admission.

“I understand," Clara finally replied with a casual air, “It’s okay,” she added meeting Me’s eyes before dropping them to examine her fingers. The stain was still showing around her nails but she she hoped it would fade.

Me wrung out the cloth and hung it up on a peg beside the sink, stepping back to face Clara while shaking her head.

"It isn't okay," she insisted. She had started this conversation and she would not let herself back down. "You died Clara, you died because of me," she pointed out, her expression incredulous.

Clara shook her head, "That was _my_ choice and I would do it again to save Rigsy," she acknowledged, watching an unfamiliar pain ghost across her companion's eyes.

"..And for what happened to The Doctor," Me added carefully as she watched Clara's expression crack as her eyes deepened.

Me remembered the ‘goodbyes’ she had intruded on, completely invisible as the space around The Doctor and Clara had become pregnant with overwhelming loss. She waited for Clara’s anger but Clara’s eyes looked at Me evenly and swallowed, anger never contorting her face.

Clara’s eyes fell from Me’s face and Me turned from her, fighting to understand how she could not be angry, how she could not feel betrayed. She spun on her heel, facing Clara again as she looked up, tears barely visible in the corners of her companion’s eyes.

"Why aren't you angry? Why don't you hate me?" Me exclaimed, the force of her own questions taking her by surprise before she realised part of her wanted Clara to hate her, it would make the guilt easier to live with.

Clara turned away, her back to Me.

"We all have things we are sorry for," she responded softly before turning back, her eyes puffy and wet, "what he did for me..." she trailed off as her lips contorted.

Me heard the sharp inhalation of breath and knew Clara, despite not needing the oxygen, was trying to compose herself.

“...that isn't your fault," Clara finished as she took both of Me's hands in her own and met her eyes.

"I know that you were doing what you thought best for the greater good - I have no doubt about that," Clara affirmed as she tried to find that girl she once knew in those ancient eyes. "The Doctor never knew if he was right either but he tried to be a good person. That is why he saved you and even after everything that happened I don't regret his decision or that I pushed him to make it...." She paused, tracking the other woman's eyes, "Ashildr," she added carefully.

Me shook her head, disentangling their hands and stepping away as Clara’s eyes imbued meaning into the name she had discarded long ago.

"You took the name 'Me' because you were alone,” Clara ascertained, “…because there was no one else to care what your name really was right?" Clara rhetorically inquired. “You’re not alone anymore and that name only isolates you,” she pointed out.

"The Doctor told you," Me answered trying her best to act casual, avoiding the point while admitting its validity.

Clara shook her head and smiled, the effect somewhat ruined by her still puffy eyes, "I'm just clever," she responded. "Will you at least think about changing your name?" she pushed cautiously. "I don't care if you want to be called something else but the girl I knew was so full of wonder and stories. I know she is in there somewhere," she added, her eyes still on Me with an intensity that Me was finding increasingly uncomfortable - as if Clara could see something inside her she herself could not find.

Me nodded, "okay," she replied, trying to swallow how monumental this act felt, "I've been other names before why should my original one be any different," she acknowledged evenly, as if it had been a business transaction.

Clara smiled, "Good!" She exclaimed and her excitement was palpable and infectious.

Ashildr rolled her eyes and chuckled. Clara paused, looking at her companion oddly. Ashildr shook her head to dismiss the laugh but Clara only raised her eyebrow in response, not letting the other woman avoid an explanation behind her laughter.

Ashildr sighed. "Although he told me once, I actually now understand why The Doctor and I could never travel together," Ashildr responded, "we need someone else to remind us of small wonders."

Clara's eyes furrowed but she nodded,"between this heartbeat and the next is all I have," she replied matter-of-factly, "So lets go find some more wonders," Clara offered, touching Ashildr's arm lightly as she passed her, heading toward the console room.

* * *

The Doctor and River sat in the restaurant beside the Singing Towers of Darillium for hours before being politely asked to leave to allow them to close. River laughed, a mixture of bravado and sadness, as she politely but firmly insisted they would stay as long as they wanted. The Doctor shook his head in disagreement, paying the bill and asking for a room below with a balcony as River arched her eyebrows.

After an initial check had registered no vacancies, one miraculously appeared and The Doctor gave River a thin-lipped smile as they were shown to their room.

The Doctor walked through the room to the balcony and River followed, leaning against the railing as they continued to watch the the sun’s progression across the sky in silence, listening to the ever changing symphony created by the wind.

River shivered and The Doctor took his coat off and wrapped it around her, standing behind her and circling her in his arms to keep them both warm. River turned her head to look at him oddly, remembering this incarnation’s aversion to contact, but he only stared straight ahead and she remained silent. As the silence grew it started to feel off, like he had stopped paying attention, and she thought again about how distracted he seemed. She was used to the way his mind compartmentalised, some part of him always trying to find a solution to some puzzle, but it was different this time, like the puzzle kept shifting and making him sad. She had noticed something similar at dinner and hoped he was still trying to find some way of saving her despite his insistence to the contrary but she now had a feeling it was something else entirely.

She turned in his arms, her hands on his shoulders as she faced him, her eyes scanning his face for some insight.

“Are you okay?” she asked pointedly.

“Me? Fine, yes. Why?” The Doctor replied in staccato monosyllables.

“You seem a little distracted,” she replied, raising her eyebrows.

The Doctor smirked, a knowing smile on his lips, “I’m on a hotel balcony with a beautiful woman taking in natural phenomena.” he answered suavely, an eyebrow quirking upwards.

River eased herself out of his arms and took a few steps away before crossing her arms across her chest, holding his jacket in place.

“You do charm now too?” she responded incredulously, “Now I know I’m dying,” she added with a morose laugh.

A look passed over The Doctor’s face, a distant gaze and a flicker of pain, a look identical to one that had happened numerous other times during the meal.

“That,” she pointed out, taking a step towards him, “What were you thinking of there?” she inquired.

The Doctor brushed it off and moved to the door into the room, a hand shifting through his hair.

“Doctor,” River uttered sternly as she followed him into the room, “What is it?”

The Doctor turned, “It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he replied, failing to enliven his expression.

“Husband,” she teased, narrowing her eyes, “For better or for worse.”

“We didn’t have vows and you know it,” The Doctor reminded her.

“I know there is something off about you and it isn’t just that this might be the end for us or that you have a new regeneration. It’s like part of you isn’t here,” River expounded.

The Doctor chuckled ruefully, looking up to meet River’s eyes.

River held his eyes with her own and saw a glimmer of the battle waging inside him. She reached up to his cheek tentatively.

“What is it Doctor?” she asked softly.

The Doctor sighed.

“I erased part of my own memory,” he admitted, “Time Lord neural block.”

River’s eyes widened.

“I know I did it and why but I need to remember again River. I can’t live with this hole in my head,” he admitted, his eyes more venerable than she had ever seen them.

“Tell me what happened,” she instructed turning and stepping back onto the balcony and over to the swinging chair, patting the space beside her as The Doctor followed.

He told River the more detailed version of the story he had told the waitress in the diner, the one he assumed was Clara because her image was also gone from his mind in the same irretrievable way. They sat there for hours as River prompted and questioned, allowing him to spill out his recent life to the only person left he trusted not to betray him. When he finished and had answered all of River’s questions silence fell.

The Doctor shifted, sometime in the conversation River had leaned into the pillows on corner of the swing and put her legs in his lap. He rested his hands on her ankles, the contact feeling oddly comfortable in a way he recognised but could not place.

“Well I think you love her very much,” River finally assessed, her voice unaffected.

The Doctor turned to her with shock on his face.

“And I think you knew it. That is why you were going to erase her memory in the first place, that is why you agreed to the chance of it wiping yours,” River reasoned.

The Doctor continued to stare at her wordlessly.

“Wow. Now that’s something you don’t see that every day - you’re speechless,” River commented as her face broke out in a wide smile and she laughed. She shifted her feet off his lap and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.

“Darling, if you’re worried about me don’t. We’re proverbial ships in the night and you’re a millennial-old near-immortal. It’s wonderful when we’re together but I never expected that there would never be anyone else,” she explained.

“I suppose you married a genocidal robot,” The Doctor pointed out as his expression relaxed.

“I told you, I married the diamond!” River clarified, her lips curling into a smile as they both chuckled.

When the laughter ceased she met his eyes purposefully, “I think you should find her. Someone needs to take care of you, especially if…” she trailed off as the thought of her own death rose to the forefront. She shook it off, “And I expect to meet her some day,” she prodded, failing to keep the tears from welling in the corner of her eyes.

The Doctor nodded noncommittally, knowing that they would meet but not in the way River expected.

* * *

It only took seven trips for Clara to realise how useful it was to have The Doctor’s knowledge. While he did not know everything, even Ashildr's travels and extensive reading had been unable to stop them materialising in the middle of the same galactic war twice.

After barely escaping execution on both sides (not that Clara was sure what would happen if someone tried to kill her again) Ashildr suggested hacking into the transmissions of the area before deciding where to visit and Clara, although she was used to a certain degree of winging it, agreed.

They explored numerous planets this way with reasonable success and were listening to the nearby frequencies of the closest star systems when Ashildr heard something odd.

Clara, listening to other frequencies from the other side of the console, saw Ashildr's brow furrow and looked up at her from across the console. Ashildr took off the massive ear covering headphones (she said the sound quality had never been quite the same in any other technology apart of direct resonance which always gave her a headache) and gestured for Clara to come listen.

"It sounds like you," she explained, confusion painted on her face as she handed over the headphones.

Clara took the headphones and held up one end to an ear.

"I am Oswin Oswald, I fought the Daleks and I am human," came a distinctly familiar voice.

Ashildr broke in, "I've found the source and Dalek weapons are priming over that planet, enough to wipe it out," she informed her.

Clara nodded, listening intently.

"Thank you," the transmission continued in a voice long lost to her and she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as she heard her voice again and words she would never forget, "Run you clever boy and remember me.”

She acknowledged the long range scanner data Ashildr had flicked to her screen, slipping on the headphones as her fingers began to dance across the console. Ashildr asked her what she was doing as she tried in vain to follow Clara's fingers but Clara was focused on the task at hand and did not respond.

The Tardis lurched and spun, a form materialising before them as the Tardis lurched again, Clara's fingers still frantically dancing along the console. When they were clear of the exploding planet and the Tardis has stabilised Ashildr took a deep breath, Clara taking off the headphones as they both looked at the form before them in shock.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reference a deleted scene from The Girl who Died (S09E05) which can be found here: http://dreameater1988.tumblr.com/post/140871942561/screaming-all-the-deleted-scenes-xddd. You don't need to have seen it to follow the plot but I highly recommend watching because of the feels…. ; )

 

"What did you do?" Ashildr accused bewildered as Clara's mouth fell open, staring in confusion at the metallic form of the Dalek in front of her.

"Hu-man, hu-man," the Dalek repeated and Clara cocked her head.

"I am hu-man," it repeated and Clara's eyes went wide. She had not been able to accomplish that during her time in a Dalek, the simple identification if her existence.

"It's Oswin," Clara replied to her still befuddled traveling companion, "she's in there," she insisted as she scanned the Dalek with the Tardis.

She focused on the Tardis readout, her heart sinking. She had been hoping for something inside she could salvage but Oswin's human form had been demolished, her neural patterns alone uploaded to the machine before her. Before she could think anything else a hologram appeared before her - and it was her but not. She was dressed in a simple red dress and heeled white and red trainers, a toolbelt around her waist.

The holographic version of Oswin watched Clara perplexedly before focusing on Ashildr who was looking from the hologram to her friend with increasing confusion.

"I'm losing control of the Dalek they merged me with," Oswin began, her words faint as the machine behind her shifted, a metallic voice crackling.

"Eggggx..." It stuttered.

"Listen to me Oswin," Clara began, "There is a memory filter. That is what is changing you. Short circuit the memory filter," she instructed, and Ashildr noted the edge of panic in her voice.

Oswin fought to focus on Clara, fighting the noise in her head.

"It's like a silver collar with lights, your nerves are the electrics, just try to retrieve the memories they are trying to take from you. Remember who you are," Clara instructed, trying to keep her voice calm but Ashildr saw a moment of unadulterated terror pass across her face.

Oswin flickered from sight.

"Run you clever girl and remember," Clara added desperately, hoping it was a touchstone to The Doctor and that it would help focus her even as the words helped her fight the fear welling up within her from her own experience inside a Dalek.

"Ex-ter-min...in..." Came the metallic voice but it sounded almost strangled.

Clara went over to the Dalek and crouched down, looking down it's eye stalk. Ashildr could see her hand shaking as she touched the outer shell.

"You can do this Oswin, I know you can. Just remember who you are," Clara encouraged hoping her touch would help in some small way.

The Dalek started shaking violently and Clara was thrown off balance. Ashildr rushed to her side, concerned she had been hurt but Clara only nodded before sitting up where she had been thrown, transfixed by the machine before her.

The Dalek started moving back and forth, fighting itself for control.

"What happens if that explodes in here?" Ashildr whispered, crouching down beside Clara as she watched the scene play out.

"Nothing good," Clara responded with a seemingly casual disregard for her own life that annoyed Ashildr more than she let on.

Metal began to squeal, scrapping against itself as it mutated into a horrible scream that sounded more human than Dalek.

Clara jumped up as an idea came to her. She flicked a few switches to modulate the internal sensor to read and store the electrical impulses coming from the Dalek.

"I don't know if you can hear me Oswin," she screamed above the noise, "Find the Tardis, let it collect you. An empty Dalek won't be any threat to any of us," she instructed, not exactly sure if whatever was holding Oswin's consciousness together was something the Tardis could even store but not sure what other choice was available.

The horrible scream was silenced as the squealing clash of metal shifted octaves, the seemingly endless death throes of machine.

Then silence as the Dalek stilled and the eye stalk fell.

Clara looked at Ashildr.

"Well that is better than dead," Ashildr commented, "but how do we know what happened?"

Clara was already scrolling through the Tardis's database.

"Well the Tardis has a _lot_ of data she didn't have before," Clara replied, still looking at the readout.

Ashildr came up behind her to read the screens.

"She can't map it though," Clara continued pointing to the screen to show Ashildr the error, "She's doesn't have a template for it. So I don't know if we have Oswin or if we do how much," Clara postulated as she scrolled through a few more screens and flicked a few more buttons.

"She says my brain pattern doesn't work," she added clearly frustrated as she pulled away from the console. "She is me, how can my brain pattern not work?" She inquired hypothetically and frustratedly into the ether before resting her hands on the console once again, flipping between readouts.

Ashildr looked at her oddly, "What do you mean she is you? Tell me what just happened,” She insisted as she felt the sudden complexity suffocate her.

Clara let her hands slide away from the console as she faced her friend, pausing for a moment before explaining how she fractured herself in The Doctor's timeline, creating echoes to save him. "Oswin just saved his previous face, the one I initially met," she finished.

Ashildr turned away, finding the bench beside her and sitting down. After a few moments of silence she looked up. "And I thought it was just The Doctor who was dangerous," she finally uttered, trying to keep the comment light but there was truth in her tenor that both recognised.

Clara shook her head, "I didn't do it to fracture time, I did it to save her."

"You thought you could heal her and that at least one of you could be happy," Ashildr challenged, the bile in her throat eeking into her words as they reminded her of her own insignificance. Clara was still grieving, and nothing she could do would make any difference to her friend’s pain.

Clara swallowed, recognising the accuracy of the accusation even as the bitterness it evoked surprised her.

"I didn't think about it, I just did it," she responded, shaking her head because she realised it was a flimsy excuse.

"And now we might have her brain in our Tardis and no way to save her," Ashildr pointed out, and the anger was gone from her voice to be replaced by exhaustion.

Clara looked up cautiously before raising an eye brow, "Not _no_ way..." She answered with a curl of her lip.

Ashildr met her eyes, knowing Clara Oswald had a plan she would not like. She also knew she would help no matter her own misgivings because she could do nothing else. Maybe she had been wrong about The Doctor. Maybe Clara, with her hope, her compassion and her eyes, maybe she was the dangerous one. 

* * *

The Doctor sat down at his desk in the library, a large bound book before him and an elaborate fountain pen. He opened the first page and traced his fingers over the lettering inscribed there - Clara - wishing it was as easy to find her outline in the spaces she left. He flicked through pages and pages of memories interspersed with musical notation. He knew the song was part of the puzzle, he could feel her more tangibly when he played, but he was not yet able to fit it together with missing memories.

The journal had been River’s idea and although his logic told him that the neural block was made to hold up under repeated pressure he too had hoped that filling the pages would help solidify this ghost haunting the recesses of his brain. He had written down everything he could remember, the details of every adventure he knew she was a part of and yet the absence remained ephemeral, the knowledge she was there and memory of her refusing to unify into a conceptual whole.

He shut the book with a sharp exhale, glancing over at the smaller one beside it. The pages opened easily to his touch and he flipped through it at random, looking at page after page of Clara’s face, sketched before his memory wipe. He remembered having the idea of cataloging Clara’s facial expressions - he had such a hard time reading faces in this regeneration - and he had been thorough. Each sketch had a short description and a working hypothesis of what he thought it meant, often numerous amendments beside the initial theory. He drew a hand over his face as he remembered pouring over it, making amendments and connections, but he was unable to make those connections now. The memory of Clara remained smoke that blew away when he focused on it.

He pushed his chair back and stood, trying for time beyond counting to find something else to occupy his time and help him get over grief he could not even fully contextualise. But it was not just the grief, it was the puzzle, the not knowing that was driving him mad. Who was Clara Oswald and why was she so important to him? Maybe if he could just see her, just once, maybe the puzzle would click into place and leave him alone. The idea had come before but he had repelled it - the only way to be sure it was her would be to visit his own timeline and that was too dangerous to risk. He pushed the thought away again but the seed had already begun to take root in his mind.

* * *

Clara sat on her bed, her back pressed against the wall as she held the key to The Doctor’s Tardis between her fingers.

Her own words rang in her ear as the oft-repeated memory surfaced without prompt.

_‘How long was the Doctor trapped inside the confession dial?’ she had asked._

_‘We think four and a half billion years,’ had been the reply._

_The sudden, overwhelming, aching breadth of it coalesced in her stomach as fear and anger while something stronger than both pushed behind her eyes in tears._

_‘Why would you even do that? I was dead! I was dead and gone. Why? Why would you even do that to yourself?’ she had lashed out, hoping there had been something else, something worth his pain._

_He looked at her and repeated what he often said, ‘I had a duty of care,’ the context giving weight to what had once been a joke between them as his eyes relayed so much more than the words could carry._

_‘Okay, listen. I have something I need to say,’ she had insisted when he tried to move on, pushing despite his attempts at deflection, ‘People like me and you, we should say things to one another. And I'm going to say them now.’_

_He did not argue and she pressed on before he had enough time to distract them._

_‘I care about you too much…’ she confessed before trailing off, the words catching in her throat as she fought between fear and the need for admission. ‘I do not want to be the reason for any more pain. I don't want you to suffer,’ she continued lamely as her voice choked on its own betrayal._

_The Doctor interrupted before she could speak again._

_‘Clara I can’t leave you in danger if there is anything I can do about it,’ he replied evenly as if it was the most obvious truth, meeting her eyes before turning back to the floor panel again. ‘The confessional dial was a cycle: transporter, figure it out, punch the wall, die, transporter, figure it out, punch the wall, die…’ he explained as his attention remained on the panel beneath them. ‘There was a time every cycle where I would remember all the times before and even then, even knowing how many times I had died, I still could not stop knowing there was the smallest chance to save you.’_

_He looked up to meet her eyes, stinging with the pain of his admission. She saw it clearly, the barefaced truth of his feeling for her. She nodded, wanting desperately to say something, to wrap her arms around him and force time to stop in this moment but she was frozen with the knowledge of what he endured for her._

_The Doctor looked back at the floor, ‘Once I get this open it will take me a few minutes to get to the workshop and grab a Tardis,’ he informed her almost carelessly, changing the tone of his voice as easily as the subject._

_She had swallowed then, forcing the guilt back down her throat as she nodded. ’I’ll distract them. Don’t worry, they’ll all be looking at me. Just let me know when you’re ready,’ she replied, knowing she had to say more and hoping there would still be time._

* * *

Ashildr found her traveling companion in her room, sitting on her bed and leaning against the wall, staring sombrely at a Tardis key on a chain around her neck. It was not the key to their Tardis, not if the distant look on Clara's face was any indication.

Ashildr cleared her throat and knocked on the edge of the doorless entryway as Clara quickly slid the key below her shirt and looked up, the smile on her lips not reaching her eyes.

"If you're intent on going through with this I might have found a way," Ashildr opened, hoping a mission would help ease some of her obvious pain.

Clara nodded and pat the bed beside her as Ashildr sat beside her and explained her idea.

* * *

"You've done enough," Clara stated to Ashildr as she released the handle that had brought them to the Starship Alaska, the Tardis having easily traced Oswin's past. "You don't have to come," she offered when she saw Ashildr shift from one foot to the other. Despite helping to fabricate this plan Ashildr was still not entirely happy with what Clara was about to do.

"Go visit Rutilian Three again, I know you enjoyed the sword fighting - just come back for me in four or five hours my time," Clara suggested with what she hoped sounded like casual nonchalance.

She trusted Ashildr to come back but somehow traveling separately like that felt like defeat, an acceptance that she not be attempting this.

"It is certainly more challenging to fence when my opponent has four arms but no, I'm coming with you," Ashildr replied, her lips crooking up in a smile as she wondered how Clara's reckless determination always managed to make her feel both horribly uncomfortable and exhilarated. She wondered if that was how Clara felt traveling with The Doctor.

Clara's lips tweaked in a smile.

"Come on then!" she uttered as she gestured for Ashildr to follow her deeper into the Tardis.

Ashildr followed her through the corridors, knowing the route well, and into the room of clothing that was part Tardis-made and part collected from their previous adventures (or maybe future ones, you never knew with the Tardis). Rummaging through the various racks Ashildr found herself a waistcoat and breeches ensemble edged with iridescent fabric. She changed in the corner of the room before pulling on her favourite calf-high black boots and turning to see what her companion had found.

Clara emerged from another part of the room in an understated black fitting dress whose style was not entirely unlike the one Oswin wore in the hologram.

"I figured I can pass for a guest or Oswin depending?" Clara suggested with an eyebrow raised as Ashildr appraised the outfit approvingly.

Clara pushed aside discarded clothes from a seat beside her and sat down with a pair of knee high boots, pulling them on before digging through another pile to find a small bag.

Before they left Clara added a hint of colour to her lips, puling up her hair into a ponytail to hide the fact her hair was much shorter than Oswin's.

"You'll need this," Ashildr offered, handing Clara a small metallic object with a finger loop on one side.

Clara nodded, taking it gratefully and tucking it into her bag.

* * *

They emerged from the cargo hold into a bustling lobby edged with a bar. All of the available surfaces were highlighted and coloured in the shifting lights of dozens of screens suspended from a tall glass ceiling, each one advertising or broadcasting a different activity happening on the ship. As Clara looked from one to the next she found that the audio of the others faded until she was actually able to pay attention easily despite the cacophony of other screens around her.

She turned to look at Ashildr questioningly.

"Direct resonance. Be careful of the headaches," Ashildr explained offhandedly as she made her way further into the lobby.

Clara glanced back up at a different screen with the same odd effect before turning back to Ashildr and quickening her pace to catch up.

They had reviewed a map of the ship beforehand, deciding it would be better to find her in the less populated crew quarters than risk the general public seeing Clara and Oswin together. They made their way from the lobby into the hallways of the ship, larger than most Clara had visited before, and were approaching the crew quarters when they saw a bustling ship employee making a bee-line for them.

Clara met the gaze of the approaching young man, an aquatic-formed nose and gills altering an otherwise unexceptional face.

"There you are Oswin," he exhaled, his voice registering panic, "The Tripoli Sisters from Girtack Three are due on any moment and are refusing, again," he explained, the annoyance and frustration clear, "I think they mean it this time though - I need you to take care of the crowd while I see if I can find more Rustin eggs to appease them,” he instructed cavalierly, clearly expecting her to obey without question.

Clara hesitated.

"Come _on_ Oswin, I'll set you up," he urged, noticing Ashildr for the first time, "my apologies Madame, I am happy to find another manager to resolve your complaint if Oswin has not sorted it to your satisfaction," he offered deferentially, bowing his head slightly.

"Thank you but Oswin has been most helpful," Ashildr replied before turning to Clara, edging closer and behind her, as if to depart. Her fingers found the latch of Clara's bag and she eased out the small metal object she had given her earlier.

"Thank you for assistance Ms Oswald," Ashildr offered graciously.

Clara nodded in thanks, both for the implicit concern in Ashildr’s eyes but also because she had just taken on the mission she herself did not believe in.

"Enjoy the rest of your stay," Clara offered with what she hoped was the right amount of perfunctoriness as Ashildr departed before turning back to the Star-liner employee and following him deeper into the ship.


	3. Chapter 3

Clara-as-Oswin followed the employee blindly as he raced through the halls, continually speaking about the singers who would not go on, the lack of cover and the long hours. 

"I don't know how you manage to remain so chipper," he offered at one point, turning back to her as Clara tried for her most innocent smile. 

"I'm seeing the galaxy," she replied with another smile, shrugging off the hardships of her job in a way she hoped was plausible. Oswin was basically the same person right?

He smiled, shaking his head indulgently and she knew she had remained in character in his eyes. 

He led her to an auditorium, leading her up the back stairs to the stage and flicking a few levers as he urged her on to the stage with instruction to delay before disappearing at speed back into the ship. 

The stage was brighter than she had anticipated and while she was not able to see any features beyond the first couple of rows she saw that the rows stretched off quite a ways into the distance, each seat, even the vapour and aquatic adapted ones, moving and shifting. A full house then. 

She took a deep breath and tried to extrapolate Oswin from what little she knew of her, pitching her voice slightly higher and trying to keep it casual. 

"Good day ladies and gentlemen," she welcomed, walking confidently across the stage, it was part reconnaissance and part to embody confidence and calm her own fears. 

"I am sorry to tell you that there will be a delay to the next show," she explained, a ripple of disappointed noise undulating through the audience. 

Clara made it to the edge of the stage, counting the rows at the edge of the light. There had to be around 50. The width indicated there were probably 30 seats per row (give or take) which meant her only escape route if something went horribly wrong was backstage. She paused, waiting for the disappointment to taper off as her mind worked to find what she would say next. 

"But I'm going to tell you a story," she began as she grabbed on to the thoughts foremost in her mind. She balked at the idea of revealing pain still so fresh - surely anything but that - yet the rest of her mind remained painfully blank. She steeled herself against this impending personal revelation by couching herself in her character as Oswin and took an unnecessary breath. 

The audience settled and she, for the first time, thanked her heart for not racing within her. 

"There was once an immortal who traveled the galaxies," she began, trying to harness and deliver the innocent fascination and wonder of those early trips while couching the overall story in vaguer details. 

Apart from some soft muttering and rustling the audience was politely silent. 

"One day he accidentally saved a very clever girl from brain sucking machines," she explained before adding, "not pleasant," as an aside, rewarded by a few sounds of amusement.

"They ended up traveling together," she continued, crossing the stage to the other side, pulling a chair from the eaves to the centre of the stage and sitting in it, leaning forward almost conspiratorially. "He brought her on many adventures and together they saw wonders and horrors of the universe," her eyes danced and smiled with the memory of it. 

"They saved each other's lives multiple times over and before they realised it was happening, had become completely dependant on the other's existence," she leaned back and cleared her throat, trying to maintain her hold on pretending to be Oswin as the memories reignited the ache within her. 

"Neither had ever said a word, they didn't need to.." She trailed off, "Although maybe they should have," she added as an aside with a forced half smile, wishing she had thought of some other story as the tears burned behind her eyes at the memory of her almost-admission in the cloisters. 

She heard the silence of 150 seats and swallowed, forcing herself to continue as she mentally edited the details as best she could. 

"She died...," she announced, to an audible murmuring, "...on a no name planet in a distant part of the universe and for the first time he couldn't save her," her voice cracked despite her best efforts. 

"He lost his mind to his grief," she confessed before adding "he had been a little crazy anyway," conspiratorially, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile even as the tears formed in the corner of her eyes. 

"He worked for years on a way to get her back, plotting to sneak into to the very domain of the Time Lords to steal a machine that could save her,” she winced as she mentioned them, hoping it would not alert them somehow, “yet in order to succeed he would have to sneak in via the least defended path - the dungeons."

She paused for effect and stood, pushing down the tears and walking across the stage as she tried to connect to the audience while listening for any signs of trouble. 

"Now the Time Lords don't have dungeons like most," she explained almost matter-of-factly as the guilt churned in her stomach, "they have dungeons of the mind and the immortal fought his way through chambers of his worst fears for Four. And a Half. Billion. Years," she emphasised even as the words stuck in her throat, raw and painful. 

She could feel the audience’s attention and she swept the room to distract herself from the fresh grief welling up within her. She forced herself to think of Oswin and wondered if she was listening as she pushed the grief back towards the depths of her soul before continuing. 

"He spent four and a half billion years etching away at their security system," she continued, pausing for effect before continuing, "And when he finally got through he stole a time machine and caught her in the very moment before her death," she exhaled purposely as if that was the end and felt the relief in the room. 

She crossed to the other side of the stage

“But..." she began, but her words overshadowed by a muttering through the crowd as she turned to see three large elaborately feathered humanoid beings coming up behind her followed by the humanoid with aquatic features who had spoken to her earlier. 

"Thanks Oswin," he whispered when he got on the stage before dialling his amplifier on and cutting hers. 

Clara walked off stage, briefly glancing behind her before she felt a hand grab hers and drag her forward offstage. She found herself in a dark room crowded with large props and stage sets, aware of the flutter of her captor’s brown hair as she turned. It was almost like looking into a mirror. 

She opened her mouth to speak but Oswin slapped her across the face, sniffed at her now exposed neck, and then took Clara's head between her hands and kissed her full on the lips before Clara could respond to any of the actions. 

Oswin pulled back a moment later, "Damn I'm a good kisser," she commented with a smirk, looking at her double. 

"Why did you do that?" Clara asked, still staring awkwardly and slightly off balance. 

"Well you don't feel like a hard-light hologram," Oswin explained, "you don't smell like a Slytheen.."

"Hey!" Clara objected, remembering the large green calcium-wreaking creatures she had come across recently.

"Clearly to sexy for that anyway," Oswin added with a wink. 

"..and you kiss like a human," Oswin finished, "So who are you? Are you future me?"

"No," Clara replied, still taking in Oswin's face, knowing the echoes were out there was so very different from being face to face with one.

"But you're a time traveler - you're VCG.." Oswin stated. 

Clara raised her eyebrows in confusion. 

Oswin gave a big sigh, "Very Clever Girl," she explained, rolling her eyes. 

"Oh," Clara enunciated, "then yes." 

Oswin dropped herself into a nearby chair. 

"I knew it - I can read my own face," she teased.

Clara's brow furrowed, "But you were back stage," she pointed out, "how could you have known...?"

"Oh, cameras and screens are everywhere," Oswin brushed off before standing again and wandering aimlessly in the crowded room. 

Clara nodded, a pit in her stomach as she remembered the screens in the lobby - what had she given away? Was mentioning the Time Lords enough to get their attention? She wondered if Ashildr had seen. As if on cue Clara saw Ashildr sneak in to the crowded room. She met Clara's eyes briefly, holding her finger over her lips before ducking down in the shadow of some stage pieces. 

Oswin pivoted suddenly as Clara's eyes snapped to her.

"So who are you and why are you here," Oswin asked, staring her down with determined eyes she knew too well as she stepped toward her again, passing Ashildr without notice. 

Clara did her best to keep her eyes focused on Oswin, trying to realistically ponder Oswin's question as she watched Ashildr sneak towards her out of the corner of her eye.

Oswin recognised Clara's hesitation a moment too late as Ashildr's hand went around her neck, Clara hearing the slight hiss as the nanites were injected into Oswin's brainstem. 

Ashildr half caught Oswin as she slumped to the floor, Clara jumping forward to help her as they placed her in the chair she had vacated earlier. 

"You sure it's not hurting?" Clara asked as she watched her double's unconscious form, the guilt of her decision hitting her in that moment. 

Ashildr nodded.

"It's just scanning her brain pattern and uploading it to the Tardis,” she confirmed, “The nanites will leave when they're done".

"How much will she remember?" Clara inquired turning to Ashildr and considering everything she had said and whether any of it would affect Oswin's timeline. 

"Well she'll probably remember most of your performance," Ashildr remarked, her eyes falling to Oswin, "I put in just enough modified Red Con to wipe out the last few minutes."

Clara nodded, "I suppose most of it is on video anyway - I can't change that without risking more of a mess can I?”

Ashildr shook her head. 

“Come on," she prompted, "Let's get out of here before someone sees both of you together."

Clara followed her back to the Tardis lost in thought. Was it selfish to leave Oswin to her fate just to save The Doctor? She knew those he saved would thank her but she was not doing it for them. She was doing it for her - she was doing it to save him. She supposed that is what Oswin was born for - to save The Doctor - but it did not make her feel any better about what she would have to endure beforehand. 

* * * 

Ashildr opened the most recent volume of her journal to a new page. She had scanned her many volumes years ago and carried them with her in digital format but there was something about the process of physically writing that held some of the catharsis she needed when recording her life. She picked up her pen, an elaborate blue fountain-type that supposedly never ran out of ink. Clara had purchased for her at a recent market planet and it had instantly become her favourite. She poised it above the page and began to write.   
__  
I don’t know what I expected when I agreed to take my original name back but it was certainly not this. If I didn’t know better I would say it was magic, the way shedding ‘Lady Me’ has changed the way I see the world, forced me to become invested in it. Although maybe that is Clara, the determination she has to experience everything and save everyone regardless of the consequences. It is infuriating at times but endearing…  
  
Ashildr put down the pen for a moment, taking a deep breath and pushing away the feelings that thoughts of Clara always brought to the surface, that tension in her gut she knew would never be anything else.  
__  
I can’t say I always agree with her stratagems, I think even she is second guessing her decision to save Oswin, but there is a mutual (I hope) trust between us and it has been so long since I’ve ever been able to relate to anyone else on that footing.  
  
Ashildr continued to write down the details of their recent adventure, occasional details evoking a smile or furrowed brow. When she was done she scanned the pages to her repository and put the book back on the shelf. 

* * * 

Oswin tried to open her eyes but found she could not. She felt insubstantial - as if the weight of her eye lids was too much for her manage. The last thing she remembered was Clara staring at her down the eyestalk of the Dalek telling her to fight followed by muted pastel lights. She focused, trying to force her eye lids open but found she could not even explicitly sense where they were. Her mind started racing but everything felt funny, disconnected and oddly laid out, like she had been taken apart and rearranged in the wrong order. She started to panic despite herself and immediately an image flickered in front of her in the darkness. She tried to move her head, as if the new image would give her some solidity but it did not move and she could still not feel where her eyes or eyelids were. The image stayed in front of her until something snapped into place as if reasserting itself after a dislocation and she recognised the form in front of her. 

"Nina," she vocalised in simple recognition of her first crush, yet she could not hear the word or feel her breath pass her lips, "Am I dead?" she added, panic in her non-audible voice. 

The image of Nina shook her head, "I am the Tardis visual interface. I'm programmed to select the image of a person you esteem, and I have your memories. This face seemed most likely to gain a positive reaction." 

"I'm in a machine?" Oswin asked, her virtual voice pitching higher as she tried to assess her situation. 

"I am a multi-dimensional transport device," Nina's image replied. 

"A Time Machine?" Oswin replied incredulously, her confusion and disassociation only mounting. 

"Among other things," Nina's image replied, "At the moment I hold the repository of your consciousness." 

Oswin felt the disconnect on a visceral level she now knew was impossible, her mind flashing images of her torture at the hands of the Daleks as she tried to process her lack of physical form. It felt like her mind was collapsing, pressing in on itself as if the memory could asphyxiate her. 

She felt Nina touch her mind and it stopped the memory flashes as Nina’s image came before her again. 

"I will keep you safe," she heard before her consciousness faded to black. 

* * *

The idea of visiting Clara with his past self had grown inside The Doctor like a weed blocking off all other thought until he convinced himself it was the only way to get this not-shape of her out of his head. 

He visited Caliburn House, watching at a distance as he and Clara bid farewell to Emma, Palmer and their newly found, definitely-not-a-ghost, distant grandchild from the future. He remembered the event but the joy at seeing Clara made his eyes water unexpectedly as the memories began to click into place. He wiped the tears away hurriedly, forcing himself to remain nonchalant as he looked at his past face, the awkwardness written across it in swathes when he realised his arm was around Clara. His Clara. His present incarnation remembered the feel of it, the equal comfort and confusion in the contact as his past self covered his burgeoning feelings with his usual awkward forthrightness before quickly moving on. He focused on his past self, wishing there was a way he could tell him what he would lose but knowing the knowledge would not make anything easier. 

The longer he focused on his past self the more his memory of her began to fade until he could only remember her by looking at her again. He nearly cursed aloud when he realised what was happening, the neural block was working perfectly by preventing him from maintaining the memory. 

His past self and Clara entered the Tardis and he turned back to his own, a pit in his stomach where the feeling of her had burned red within him, the feeling fading until he was left numb, aware only that seeing her had made him feel again. 

He repeated the exercise with masochistic frequency, hoping with every trip that something would stick but the solidity he craved remained elusive. It had become an addiction, the sudden heart-filling hit of her, and he found himself unable to stop visiting his previous face until he came upon the heart-sick version of his current incarnation running through his own timeline. Once he realised exposure was not imminent he watched himself for a moment, haggard and gaunt, smiling and crying at the same time as his recently past self took in Clara walking with his previous face. 

He turned away from himself to look at her properly for a moment, trying to drink his fill, before turning away and returning to his Tardis. He released the Tardis into the vortex before burying his face in his hands, acknowledging that it was too dangerous to continue as the edges of his world collapsed around him, numbing to an infuriating absence with each passing moment. 

He piloted his way back to the monks that had sheltered him before he had found Clara, separating himself from the temptation of his Tardis while hoping the quiet brotherhood would give him some solace. 

The brotherhood gave him routine, at least ensuring he ate, and he dedicated himself to the puzzle of how to make the memories maintain form, trying to ignore the knowledge that he had done this to himself. When the thought rose to consciousness he was terrified at the barefaced truth of it - he had been so dangerous that wiping his own mind had been a viable option - and yet not even that recognition soothed his need to remember.

He took up playing electric guitar in the chapel. Playing made him feel most connected to her, it was the closest he came to linking all the things he knew about her and making them tangible, and though the song was laced with hope, wonder and promise there seemed to be nothing he could do to reverse the chorus of pain and loss. 

He had been playing well into the night on one occasion, an epic score of what he knew, when the monks kindly asked him to leave. He understood, he was hardly the best guest even without the midnight disturbances. 

And so he was alone again, the temptation of the Tardis joining the itch in his brain to make the memories whole.


	4. Chapter 4

"....now?"

The word drifted into Oswin's consciousness without context.

“Well that is weird,” She commented, instinctually formulating the thought and sending it into the darkness around her.

"You can hear me," she heard, and it was Nina's voice.

She knew she was disembodied but could not shake the feeling that someone was massaging inside her skull.

"I'm mapping your memories so I can transfer them to the scan we did of your previous self,” Nina explained, before adding, “Think still.”

Oswin tried again to open her eyes and was surprised when it worked. She found herself laying down with her head in Nina's crosslegged lap, tight black curls framing her deep chestnut skin.

“You can see me without direct visual input," Nina’s voice confirmed, “I believe that is good.”

Oswin looked up at her, Nina had been her best friend, her first crush. They had been inseparable - until they weren’t.

"What is your real name," Oswin asked, trying to contextualise the situation, the image of Nina’s face both comforting and oddly disconcerting.

“What would you like to call me? I believe this image is called ‘Nina’ you can call me Nina if you’d like,” she replied and Oswin watched an un-Nina like smile cross her face.

“Tell me the last thing you remember," Nina asked calmly, the smile replaced by focus as she gave the appearance of staring at her fingers on/in Oswin's head.

"Clara telling me to use the Tardis," Oswin replied as Nina’s finger found another memory and the electrical impulse shivered pleasantly through her. She tilted her head up to see Nina's face concentrating. “Looks like it worked,” she added offhandedly, feeling a rueful half smile cross her virtual lips.

“Yes,” Nina agreed, “I increased the telepathic field and you ‘thought’ yourself here," she added placidly without glancing away from the task at hand.

"I remember Clara from before," Oswin offered and she felt another shiver as Nina identified a thought and moved it, clicking it into place with a precision that felt surreal, "She was on the Alaska, pretending to be me."

"Yes," Nina assented. "You thought your 'thoughts' here but I could not put them into any useable form. I needed a map of your brain so she found you earlier in your timeline and I'm extrapolating the rest," Nina explained evenly.

Oswin considered that, realising that Clara could have brought her on the Tardis when she was still whole and saved her from the crash entirely, but that her present self would have already been on board.

She heard Nina laugh lightly, "Time travel can make simple decisions complicated if you're not used to it," she asserted and Oswin felt another impulse run through her.

“She looks like me," Oswin commented, hoping to get an answer while searching her own memories for something that seemed just out of reach.

"Well that is interesting," Nina replied as her focus moved to something beyond Oswin's subjective body.

Oswin felt a sudden pressure on something distant from her, like a phantom limb. The pressure increased until she felt a crack and then sudden relief. With that relief came memories of a Doctor with a young face and a bow tie, a glowing line of spacetime and the determination to save him. She suddenly understood not only why she looked like her but why Clara could not have saved her on the Alaska and why she had to undergo such a horrendous experience with the Daleks. She existed to save The Doctor. The thought should have made her feel fake, like a copy, but she could feel what Clara felt when she fractured herself and she knew she would make the same decision every time. They all would.

“Chin boy is the ‘immortal’ she loves," Oswin voiced more to herself, knowing now that the immortality was more of generalisation. She tilted her head to Nina, "Is he here?"

“Yes. No,” she offered, pausing for a moment to remember the current timeline, “No,” she confirmed, “But I feel him sometimes in the time vortex,” she added.

“Good, he made away from the Daleks,” Oswin thought, her eyes fluttering closed as the impulses became more frequent. She opened them again immediately, scared for the briefest moment that the darkness would be permanent, but Nina was still above her and she felt the smile of accomplishment that spread across her own face.

“Good self-perception,” Nina commented in response to Oswin’s blink, her avatar’s eyes flicking to Oswin’s with a smile of her own before she focused again on Oswin's thoughts.

Oswin remained silent, pondering. She could feel Clara's love for The Doctor, separate from her own feelings but powerful, and wondered what could be so complicated that they would choose to exist apart.

Nina broke Oswin's contemplations periodically to ask her to think of something specific and they stayed like like until she blacked out again, knowing she was as safe as she could be for a disembodied jumble of thought impulses previously contained in a Dalek.

* * *

Ashildr knocked on Clara’s door frame (they still had not been able to convince the Tardis that doors were a good idea) and watched her close the book she was holding and look up with a casual but not convincing smile.

It had been two days since they had implanted the nanites in Oswin and they were tagging along behind the Alaska, the short range feed being transmitted into the depths of the Tardis as it mapped her brain.

“What’s that?” Ashildr asked curiously, sitting on the bed beside her and reading the cover.

Clara picked it up and opened it to a random page, “It’s the book I had since I was little of all the places I had been. It was empty until I met The Doctor,” she explained as she turned page after page, each one covered in photos or mementos and fragments of handwritten text in various colours.

Ashildr was watching her flip the pages in silence, not wanting to force her to focus on the old memories longer than she already had, before she came to a page she recognised. She moved her hand to the page, forcing Clara to stop turning the page.

“That’s a feather from Frazinne,” she exclaimed, remembering their first adventure and how the ground had been littered with them before taking in the rest of the page, covered in bits and reminders of their various excursions.

Clara nodded, a genuine smile crossing her lips, “I’ve hardly stopped traveling have I?” she asked nudging her friend before looking at her, Ashildr meeting her eyes with a smile truer than most that passed her lips.

Clara’s smile widened at the sight as Ashildr looked back at the book, taking it from Clara’s hands and reading it closely, Clara pointing out various memories as they flipped through the remaining pages.

Ashildr shut the book when they were done.

“Well it’s good to know you have a hobby,” she commented, “but we’re going to be tailing the Alaska for at least another day - care to try another one?” she asked with her eyebrow arched.

Clara narrowed her eyes, “well that depends what you have in mind,” she answered, a small smile on her lips. 

* * *

The Tardis who knew herself only as Nina felt a numbing sensation invade as a large amount of data was pulled into the processor of the time vortex. She condensed herself to save from being erased while scanning nearby memories, fighting to understand the context as data continued to encroach. The breach had just begun to truly terrify her when she found the moment that had occurred earlier in relative time, Clara’s desperate plan and her own action of significantly increasing the telepathic field to save this woman trapped in a Dalek.

She cursed her inability to keep to the relative time-stream of her passengers, feeling the weight of her shortcoming as she wondered how long it would be before her current drivers abandoned her like the others.

She had been in stasis for at least a few hundred years in the Tardis repair shop before she was taken by The Doctor. Her joy at escape mirrored that of her passengers and she tried her coping trick - imprinting on them so that the ageing of their cells could help her recognise relative time. When The Doctor left she had only Clara, cells frozen moments before her death, and although Ashildr's presence helped, her connection to Clara sometimes left her muddled and unable to focus on time the way her operators saw it.

When she became the custodian of Oswin's memories Nina did everything she could for the disembodied woman, trying to teach her to cope with her own ethereal-ness as she continued the mammoth task of reintegrating Oswin's memories, slowly shifting the thoughts into a coherent pattern and mapping them to the scan Clara and Ashildr had gained - a proportionate year taking only moments in processing time.

It took a force of will to hold the project together, to recognise her own placemarks and see how far she had processed each stage as her relative consciousness flickered back and forth through time but Oswin grew from random fragments in the midst of staggering darkness to a unifying self-reflective whole, growing stronger and more capable by the microsecond. When Oswin first became aware of the world around her - creating her own self-image and ‘opening her eyes’ to the simple visual world Nina had created - Nina felt the achievement as if it had been one of her own, her excitement bleeding through to Oswin even as she felt Oswin’s existential fear running beneath her own feelings of achievement.

* * *

Clara retired to her bed that night physically exhausted. Ashildr had been teaching her how to fence and it was a far more strenuous a sport than she had expected, even when Clara kept interrupting with conversation in an attempt to distract Ashildr. It was nice though, feeling strain that did not come from running for your life, and she easily fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The Doctor flicked a few switches on the console, bringing up various locations and scrolling through them without really paying attention. His thoughts were focused on Sherwood Forest.  
He knew following the timeline of his current face was infinitely more challenging as both his past self and Clara would recognise him instantly but the layout of the forest offered many opportunities for concealment and he convinced himself that his memory of the paths they had taken was enough to shield him from view. He programmed the coordinates easily, they had been replaying in his mind for hours, and released the Tardis into the time vortex.

Exiting the Tardis he heard birdsong and the babbling of a stream, running along faster than he remembered. He carefully followed it downstream until he saw the log across the stream and the felled tree Robin had been crouching behind when they first materialised. He retraced his steps backwards and found a small ridge beside a tree and crouched behind it, waiting for his previous self to appear. The Tardis knew better than to bring him to the exact moment or location he had previously materialised but the lag time between his past and present appearances varied. He had been analysing the tree-spread and air content, calculating any long-term effects from the radiation leaking from the crashed robot ship, when he saw Robin approach and crouch down behind the log as The Doctor heard a familiar sound.

He watched the younger version of his current face step out of the Tardis, broadcasting his disbelief of the man Clara had wanted to meet more than anyone else. Clara stepped out of the Tardis and he watched her, his memories slowly coalescing, blurry at first but then clearer, as if someone had removed a cloudy lens. He caught his own expression as Clara watched Robin Hood with an innocent giddiness he had never seen since, the brows of his younger face furrowed and creased with jealousy. He could feel it now, the ache in his gut, so much more acute for being experienced in his current body. Memories rose to the surface to counter it, holding her hand and how the awkward pulse-racing discomfort gave way to a contentment he craved. Holding hands had made way for less tentative hugs until she thought nothing of carelessly wrapping her arms around him and calling him a daft old man. He moved his eyes to Clara as the hundreds of little moments with her burned within him, trying to stay in the high of it and carve them into his soul even as the overwhelming emotion made him nauseous.

He followed them to Robin's hideout, trying to force himself to remember this feeling of wholeness as he watched his younger self go from one of Robin’s companions to the next, trying to prove the untruth of the scenario. He watched Clara as she was introduced to the Merry Men, aware of his investigations but generally ignoring them.

They separated from the group and he watched Clara’s face as a half-remembered exchange fell to his ears.

“How can you be so sure he is not the real thing?” Clara asked, her eyes so full of trust, hope and admiration.

“Because he can't be,” his younger self replied.

“When did you stop believing in everything?” she countered curiously.

“When did you start believing in impossible heroes?” he asked dismissively.

“Don't you know?” Clara replied. She stared at him intently, her smile widening as he looked from her to Robin confusedly. She shook her head and moved away from him mumbling something about it ‘being sweet.’

The Doctor remembered the experience but had been focusing on the puzzle, using it to distance himself so successfully that he had not understood the meaning behind her words. His younger self had also not yet decrypted this facial expression, slightly furrowed brows followed by downcast eyes which raised to meet his gaze with a smile, it was self-consciousness mixed with affection. Watching the scene now he was able to grasp a depth in the exchange that would have eluded him back then even if he had been paying proper attention, and it reverberated within him, increasing the masochistic ache he cherished.

The group departed to the archery contest and he begrudgingly returned to the Tardis, knowing it would be too dangerous to do otherwise, desperately trying to hold on to the memory of her face watching his younger self so intently. He shut the Tardis door behind him and dropped himself onto the stair, dragging his hands down his face.

"Why am I doing this?" He vocalised despairingly.

The Tardis beeped in response and he looked up in a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"Yes I know _why_ ,” he replied crossly, "If I had been looking for a response I would’ve asked.”

A few petulant beeps followed in response.

"Of course I would," he replied, some of the anger dropping from his tone as he focused above him - an unnecessary action as the Tardis was all around him but one that made him feel more like he was talking to his ship.

"What do you want then?" The Doctor snapped to the tonal reply.

The Tardis made an extended series of beeps and The Doctor’s gaze turned toward the wall as he felt himself begin to blush.

"I don't call you that anymore," he replied gruffly before focusing on the floor.

"Even when we're alone," he confirmed to her response.

He felt himself blush further at the Tardis's implication.

"No it isn't because of Clara," he replied, the edge of annoyance returning to his voice.

"Well come up with something else," he instructed dismissively.

"Okay, Idris then," he acknowledged calmer. "Did you have anything helpful to say then Idris?” he asked looking up again.

Idris gave a lone melancholy tone.

"Then what was the point?" The Doctor exclaimed frustratedly as he shook his head before burying it in his hands again.

She responded with a series of annoyed sounds of her own before silence fell.

The Doctor waited in the console room for his previous self to return with Clara and Robin, sitting on the stair, or the upper level, or standing on the console deck, always in view of the screen he had set to scan the Tardis by the stream. He went through his memories of the adventure with Robin Hood, trying to judge how long it all took, as the feeling of Clara was slowly replaced by the numb emptiness easily recognised as slow loss of all his memories of her.

He wondered if it was worth the moments of soul-filling torment, the closest he could come to feeling her again, only to relive the loss over and over. It was worse in some ways than the confession dial because he knew in every moment just how often he had gained back the memories only to lose them, the diminishing potential of possible trips taunting him - soon he would not even have their past.

She had a future, he knew, but he had already killed her once and the thought of hurting her further stopped him from even considering that possibility. Instead he would use up their past moments until none remained, desperate for a wholeness he could not achieve any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you ~~haven't just binged watched the whole new series~~ don't remember - 'Sexy' was the only name the Tardis had per 'The Doctor's Wife' (S06E03). Idris was the name of the human the Tardis consciousness inhabited in that ep and thus the only other name she's ever known.


	5. Chapter 5

Oswin felt a sharp pain in her temples (or at least what felt like her temples). Her eyes snapped open and she saw a chaos of overlaid images inundating her senses. She felt like she was suffocating (an impossibility of course) as her head swam around her. Just when she expected the blackness to overtake her again she heard Nina’s voice in her ear.

“Focus Oswin. I’ve patched you into the internal sensors. Pick an image and block out the rest,” Nina instructed with an even cadence as Oswin latched on to the sound, a point of calm amidst the tumult.

Oswin forced herself to full consciousness, picking an image and pushing her eyes open as she held the image before her - the console room.

“Now go there,” Nina urged.

Oswin concentrated, allowing the room to coalesce around her.

“Good. Now pull up the map of the Tardis and choose a room,” Nina requested.

Oswin flicked through some of the images at her disposal, forcing them to remain separate from each other as she looked for the map. When she found it she easily overlaid the extensive three dimensional map onto the image of the console room.

“Now focus on the path to the room,” Nina instructed, “You can ‘appear’ anywhere but if you pretend you’re walking it will help with the integration into your body.”

Oswin chose a room a random, the ice cream parlour, and made her way through the hallways towards it, slowing down when the dizziness became too much. She could not see Nina but she could feel her shadowing her thoughts, there to catch her virtual form if anything should happen and the knowledge allowed her to press on until she came to the indicated room.

They tested a few other rooms, the dizziness becoming less acute the longer she tried to navigate the maze-like halls.

“Now pick a room that does not exist,” Nina suggested and Oswin could hear the smile in her voice, feel it in the presence around her.

Oswin paused, her confusion radiating through to Nina faster than any statement could be formulated.

“Trust me,” Nina urged and Oswin felt a light pressure in her skull that almost tickled.

Oswin’s virtualised form nodded and closed her eyes, imagining a grand old fashion auditorium and connecting it to a hallway on the map.

“Slightly more elaborate than I had intended but as you wish,” Nina voiced.

Oswin smiled, “Go big or go home,” she replied with a dismissive shrug as she made her way to her creation with a confidence Nina found astounding.

Oswin stood on the stage, surveying her handiwork with a massive grin on her face. It was perfect, down to the lace edging of the curtain. She traced her finger along the curtains but it passed through and her smile fell.

“You’re still a data ghost,” Nina informed her, appearing at her side.

“Literally,” Oswin replied with a morose chuckle as she pulled her hand back. She sat on the stage cross-legged.

“What now?” she asked, trying to smile as Nina sat in front of her.

“I’m still working on the hard light hologram for you,” Nina commented almost apologetically, finding the tenor of her response unusual even as she felt compelled to give hope to the sadness in Oswin’s smile.

Oswin nodded, “Thank you,” she replied looking at the floor apparently below her.

Nina nodded in acknowledgement before shifting as if to get up. Oswin raised her eyes, reaching out to the virtual equivalent of Nina’s arm.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Thank you. For everything,” she emphasised, meeting Nina’s virtual eyes and trying to relay not only her gratitude but the honest affection she had for the sentient machine that was trying so hard to give her a normal life.

“Of course,” Nina uttered matter-of-factly as she pulled away and stood up, “I suggest you practice as long as you can,” she offered before disappearing from Oswin’s visual display.

Oswin looked around her, she could still feel traces of Nina but the bulk of her consciousness had gone elsewhere. She pushed herself to standing and cleared her mind from the massive amount of data she now had access to. She found the image of the map again, picking another room at random and making her way toward it.

She explored much of the Tardis this way, finding Ashildr in the gym decked out with weapons from dozens of worlds, and Clara in the newly created library sitting in the cushioned chair in one corner of the large room. She watched Clara for a moment, foreign eyes sitting amidst features she knew well, and wondered again what she had been through for her eyes to have such an unknowable depth. Clara shifted in the chair, looking up for a moment and almost, unbeknownst to her, catching Oswin’s eye. Oswin felt her double’s eyes bore right through her and tried to moderate the stab of emptiness it caused before turning from her and moving on.

She made her way as methodically as possible through the Tardis, all the while vaguely aware of something at the centre drawing her in. As she grew closer the feeling grew more tangible, like something vibrating within her. She increased speed, feeling a small measure of joy when the dizziness did not return, before stopping outside a section labelled ‘Data Core.’ She put her hand up to the wall of the shielded room, feeling the tingling increase in her virtual palm as the feeling of warm waves cascaded over her form.

“Why does it feel funny?” Oswin asked Nina reflexively, her eyes on the wall she was somehow unable to see beyond.

Nina appeared beside her, looking at the same wall, “I assumed it was loose wiring but I have checked numerous times and been unable to locate the source.”

“What’s inside?” Oswin inquired turning toward her friend/sanctuary.

Nina gestured and the feed from inside the shielded room appeared before Oswin’s eyes. She recognised her own translucent image instantly, cocooned in a shell and radiating a light red as Nina’s pale orange form flittered around her, invading the shell at will.

“If that isn’t helpful this is how I see it,” Nina offered, switching the view.

The image changed before Oswin’s eyes and became trails of interconnected Gallifreyian phrases, the red and orange intertwining as they both shifted, creating new fragments of code that passed from one to the other before gaining solidity.

“It’s beautiful,” Oswin remarked, in awe of the exquisite complexity. She turned to Nina and smiled, Nina returning the most genuine smile she had yet seen.

* * *

When The Doctor saw the Merry Men returning he jumped up from the seat on the upper level, shutting his journal and placing it on the table before hurriedly exiting his Tardis. He made his way carefully through the forest, this time making a wide circle to ensure he was away from Robin’s entourage, before crossing the stream and hiding in the underbrush not too far from the younger Tardis.

He watched with jealousy as Robin showed Clara how to shoot an arrow, his front pressed against her back as they released the bow together. Excitement spread across Clara’s face as the arrow found the target and The Doctor could not help a reciprocal smile from crossing his own face as he watched her happiness. She looked so innocent and his brow furrowed as he realised the pain being with him would cause her in the future. He felt a wetness in the corner of his eye but still could not turn away, drinking in every moment of her while chastising himself for being a selfish old man for whisking her away in the first place. It wasn’t fair to her, it wasn’t fair to any of them.

“He is a very lucky man,” The Doctor heard Robin comment as he prepared to say good bye to Clara.

Clara smiled, giving a brief nod before replying, “Marian is very lucky too.”

The Doctor missed his reply as her smile warmed his heart, listening again when Clara spoke.

“Don’t give up. Not ever. Not for one single day,” she told Robin Hood with a determination that shot into The Doctor’s heart. She was speaking about Marian, but the echoes to his own plight did not go unrecognised and he felt for a moment that Clara was speaking to him out of her own past. Her words paired with another memory, ‘Nobody's ever safe,’ she had told him when he was going to wipe her mind to save her, ‘I've never asked you for that, ever,’ she had insisted.

A possibility burst inside him and he hated himself for it, hated himself for the selfishness allowing him to even consider it - wondering if there were any of his own rules he would not consider crossing for her.

He made his way back to his own Tardis carefully, closing the door behind him and releasing them into the time vortex before picking up his guitar and picking a corridor, wandering through the Tardis as he attempted to use the music to clarify the thoughts raging within him.

* * *

Oswin was in the gym watching Ashildr make her way through different staff forms. She stood in front of her, just beyond the impact zone of the staff, and tried to use her access to Nina’s visual interface to appear before her. She had been trying for over an hour of Ashildr’s time, the mapping taking longer than she expected to get right, when Ashildr finally lashed out with an unexpected ferocity, holding the end of her staff at Oswin's throat as recognition crossed her face.

"You're alive," Ashildr commented, her breath heavy with exertion as she lowered the staff.

"Thought you could use a moving target," Oswin teased as she took a few teetering steps.

Ashildr’s eyes immediately caught the unsteadiness as she moved her staff and closed the distance between them, her hand passing through Oswin’s arm as she tried to help stabilise her. She met Oswin’s eyes with eyebrows raised.

"I didn't say solid target," Oswin pointed out.

"You can barely walk," Ashildr rightly assessed.

“Well this ‘visual interface’ thing is a bit new to me - help me get control," Oswin challenged, a determined fire in her eyes that reminded Ashildr of another Oswald.

Ashildr nodded, turning and placing her staff against the wall before turning again to Oswin, her fists balled up as she raised them in front of her face.

“Let’s start off easy,” she instructed before throwing a slow punch.

* * * 

Oswin left Ashildr half an hour later with better control of the interface, making her way through the corridors to Clara’s room. She found Clara in her room and stood in the doorway, taking in the lack of door and making a mental note to fix that, before clearing her throat and cautiously announcing herself.

* * *

Clara looked up from her book, her eyes sweeping the seemingly empty room. It had not been the first time she felt like she was being watched but it felt stronger somehow. She realised there was another option and put her book down on the bedside table, throwing off her covers and turning to sit on the edge of her bed.

"Oswin?," she asked to the semi-light, "Oswin if you're here then flick the lights twice," she instructed as if she was in some corny ghost story.

The lights flicked and Clara smiled into the emptiness.

"Glad you're with us," she stated before lying back in bed and picking up her book.

She felt an odd tension in the room and assumed it was Oswin trying to materialise.

"Don't try so hard, I'll be here when you're able," Clara comforted, feeling the slightest bit ridiculous speaking to the ceiling in such a way but the lights flickered again, as if in thanks.

"Don't worry about it," Clara replied to the assumed remark before returning to her book.

She fell asleep reading, still aware of Oswin's presence as the lights dimmed with her fluttering eyes.

* * *

When Clara awoke the first thing she saw was an image of herself perched in the chair on the other side of the room. She jumped up with start before recognising Oswin.

Oswin stood, her face falling in apology, "I was able to get control of the interface again in the night and I didn't want to miss you," she explained, “I made you a door while I was waiting,” she offered as if in recompense, gesturing to the entrance of the room.

Clara sat up on the bed, looking at the doorway as she composed herself. Sure enough there was a door hinged to the entryway to her room, partly ajar.

“I’ll make one for Ash later,” she added, sitting back down and taking a breath that was as unnecessary as Clara’s own.

She met Clara’s eyes.

“Thank you for my life,” Oswin offered seriously, her words weighted by the sincerity in her eyes.

"I am sorry for the state of it," Clara replied apologetically, as the truth of Oswin's lack of corporality resonated in her gut as guilt and sorrow.

Oswin smiled as she stood and took measured steps to Clara's bed, sitting beside her and placing her incorporeal hand through Clara’s and holding it there as Clara felt tingling traces of the electrical field holding the image together.

“Don't be sorry for saving me,” Oswin replied meeting Clara’s eyes, “I wanted to see the universe and now I can see all of it, anywhere Nina has been in all of space and time, the data streaming through me like blood,” Oswin expounded, her eyes dancing with the excitement of it before blushing, her eyes shifting from Clara’s as she withdrew her hand.

“Nina? My roommate from Uni?” Clara asked with a chuckle.

“The Tardis chose the face of someone I trusted more than anything. She was my neighbour, best friend, and first crush - although that last bit didn't work so well…” Oswin trailed off, before meeting Clara’s eyes again.

“How is Rory? Is he with The Doctor?” she inquired, her eyes brightening again.

Oswin watched a look fall across Clara’s face for the briefest of moments before she shook her head, her gaze falling to her lap.

Oswin tilted her head, trying to meet Clara’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she began and Clara raised her eyes to meet Oswin’s. “He’s still out there in the vortex,” Oswin tried to comfort, “Nina can feel him sometimes - we can find him,” she offered raising her eyebrows as Clara’s face only fell further.

Clara shook her head.

“How much do you remember from my visit to the Alaska?” she asked.

“Not much, and oddly the video didn’t record,” Oswin began and Clara’s eyes widened, thanking providence (or more likely Ashildr and Nina) for ensuring there had been no record. “But I knew a few members of the audience who confirmed what I could remember and filled in the rest,” Oswin finished.

Clara nodded.

“What you don’t know then is that The Doctor eventually realised he had betrayed everything he stood for to save me, torn apart time itself,” Clara uttered, emotion choking her voice.

“Which is why you don’t breathe, not properly anyway,” Oswin noted, the curiosity she had never really acknowledged clicking into place, “You’re dead.”

Clara nodded.

“Essentially yes,” she confirmed, swallowing as she forced herself to continue, “and he wiped his memories to prevent himself causing any more harm," she explained, clearing her throat and trying to blink away her tears. “So unless you can stop him being a Time Lord or loving me, neither of which I want, finding him won’t help," she added with finality, meeting Oswin’s gaze with tear-filed eyes.

Oswin was silent for a moment, pondering the hands in her lap before she raised her eyes to Clara again.

"I'm sorry," she replied simply.

Clara nodded. “It’s okay. I know you meant well,” she replied forcing a half smile on her face.

Oswin nodded, her eyes shifting down before she raised them again, "I should go," she offered.

Clara nodded.

"It is good to see you," Clara added, the clear honesty in her tone making Oswin give a half-smile as she disconnected herself from the visual interface and disappeared before her. 

* * *

Ashildr sat at her desk, her current journal open in front of her. She thumbed through the previous pages, groaning to herself at how frequently Clara's name figured in them.

She knew she was worried about her friend, she hated to see the sadness that had taken residence behind her eyes, but her journals also held many pages of her trying to convince herself out of the crush she had always had on The Doctor’s companion. It had been easier to dismiss when she was a distant memory and a name in a book, when she had been a mayfly, but she was real and pushing away the feelings she had for her possibly immortal traveling companion had become increasingly hard in the face of their daily contact.

She sighed and shut the book, resolving to help Clara deal with her pain no matter her own, hoping that it would somehow absolve her of some of the guilt she still felt for her part in Clara’s death. 

* * *

After searching her usual haunts, Ashildr was surprised to find Clara in the gym, boxing gloves on, attacking the bag in the corner with questionable form.

“I found…” Ashildr began but stopped as soon as she saw the wireless earbuds in Clara’s ears, the ferocity with which she attacked the bag increasing.

She watched her for a moment, unsure if she should interrupt but Clara was overextending her arms and she was worried she was going to hurt herself. She looked up to the Tardis ceiling and asked for the transmission to cease to Clara’s ears. Clara paused for a moment before speeding up, attacking with a renewed anger.

Ashildr closed the distance between them, laying a hand carefully on Clara’s shoulder but Clara spun, her gloved fist aimed at Ashildr’s head. Ashildr dodged it expertly, grabbing her arm and sliding her foot under the leg that had moved to support the punch. She lowered Clara to the floor, crouching down with her before releasing her arm.

Clara crossed her legs, pulled off her gloves and removed the earbuds from her ears, forcing herself to meet Ashildr’s eyes.

Ashildr raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” Clara offered simply, but Ashildr could see the chaos of her mind visible in her eyes.

“Be sorry about your poor form,” Ashildr tried to joke while maintaining an even face, “Having to react unexpectedly keeps me sharp, but you’ll be sorry tomorrow when your back aches,” Ashildr explained, raising her eyebrows as the corners of her mouth turned up in a half smile.

She watched Clara’s eyes grow wide, the brown pools that often held her captive brimming with pain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Clara admitted, her voice cracking, “He is alive and can be happy so why am I unable to get rid of this weight in my chest that makes it so hard to do anything but hurt?” she asked desperately.

Her eyes filled with tears and Ashildr sat down on the ground beside her, sliding closer and pulling Clara’s head to her shoulder.

“I’m so tired of fighting it Ashildr, so tired…” she added, a limpness entering her body as she uncharacteristically let herself be held.

Ashildr felt the warmth of Clara’s body next to her own, chastising herself for recognising this as she tentatively ran her hand through Clara’s hair, trying to soothe her.

“You don’t have to fight it. You miss him, it’s okay to cry,” she muttered into Clara’s hair.

Clara was still at first, Ashildr listening to the even breath Clara’s body still emitted as a matter of course. She felt the tension increase in the body beside her as it fought the grief within before a sob burst forth from Clara’s lips. Clara’s body began to rock with the force of it as the as the desperate pain of her anger, guilt and grief resounded through the room. Ashildr felt Clara’s nails dig into her arm and back as Clara pulled herself closer, her body tensing and releasing before tensing again, riding the loss and self-pity as she expelled it.

Clara’s sobs eased and she released her grip on Ashildr, returning to her previous position leaning on her friend’s shoulder.

“I lied,” Clara muttered, “I lied to Danny,” she contextualised and Ashildr remembered the man who, for a time, had shared Clara’s earth-based life. “I convinced myself I loved him, I really thought I did, but how could I have when the sucking hollow numbness I felt at his death is nothing compared to how empty I feel knowing The Doctor is still alive but I will never see him again?”

Clara pushed herself away suddenly, distancing herself before turning her body towards Ashildr as Ashildr caught a flash of anger in her wet and very puffy eyes.

“Why am I so selfish? Why can't I be happy that he is alive? That he cared enough to bring me back?” she ranted, desperate eyes meeting Ashildr’s as the tears threatened again.

Ashildr watched wordlessly as Clara tried to compose herself but she held her hand curled up against the pit of her stomach as if she could punch through and rip the pain out of her.

“I betrayed him,” she uttered softly avoiding Ashildr’s eyes, “I betrayed The Doctor for Danny, anything to try to get him back, but I can’t do anything to help The Doctor. All I can do is travel and try to forget how much he means to me. But I can't - how do you forget?” she asked purposefully, raising her eyes to Ashildr.

Ashidlr felt a lump form in her throat at the intensity of Clara’s question, knowing she should lie as she always did but she could not do so in the face of Clara’s eyes begging her for some truth that would save her. Her eyes fell to her lap.

“I don’t,” she whispered softly, “not really,” she admitted before raising her eyes again.

Clara met her eyes, the shock evident on her face.

“You mean…?” Clara let the question hang.

Ashildr nodded slowly, “Not the details, I can’t remember the details, but I remember most of what I’ve ripped out of my journals, despite having millennia to forget.”

She watched Clara evenly as she absorbed this information, the shock fading from her eyes as she looked at her intently.

“The pain becomes less acute,” Ashildr assured her, “But the things that mattered never really fade without help. You have your memories. Cherish them,” Ashildr instructed solemnly.

Clara nodded, remaining silent.

Getting the impression that Clara might prefer to be alone, Ashildr stood.

“Go rest,” she suggested, “I have the perfect place to visit when you wake up,” Ashildr relayed, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile.

Clara looked up, a forced smile on her face as she nodded.

Ashildr, hoping it was the right decision, turned and left the room.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

After weeks of exploring the space she had come to think of as home, Oswin made her way to the engine itself, curious as to how the Tardis (the machine as separate to Nina’s consciousness) functioned. If she was honest with herself it was a mixture of technical inquisitiveness and a personal curiosity as to how Nina existed. 

She let herself in to the engine room, it too had been shielded but not in a way that exceeded her current abilities, and approached the engine in awe. It was beyond anything she was able to contextualise and she exposed herself to the bitterly cold brightness of it, bathing in the beauty and frightful magnificence that was time and space held and subsumed into Nina’s consciousness. Despite her trepidation she pushed herself further into it, feeling part of it resonate within her. 

She was held there for a moment out of time as the world shifted and she found herself in a room she had not yet mapped but looked remarkably familiar, strains of unfamiliar music drifting through the air. 

* * * 

The Doctor heard the intruder alarm but it sounded odd, as if the Tardis was less concerned than she should be. He slung the guitar over his shoulder and made his way to the console room. When he arrived he saw a woman in a red dress and heeled trainers, her back to him. She turned when he approached and he saw her flicker, the o shape of her lips betraying her own confusion. 

“How did you get on to my ship?” he asked as the Tardis silenced the alarm, “Where are you beaming from?”

Oswin shook her head, “I didn’t mean…” she began but The Doctor turned from her to look at the console, trying to identify the origin of her transmission.

As soon as he did her face slid from his memory, it was a feeling he had grown far too accustomed to. He looked up at her again, eyes narrowed. 

“Where are you from and why do you have her face?” he asked insistently, “Who sent you?” he continued to interrogate as his eyes narrowed with suspicion. 

Oswin opened her mouth, not sure how to answer any of his questions as her gaze took in the features of the room. 

“I’m on your Tardis,” she exclaimed more to herself than The Doctor before turning to him and taking in his face, “So Chin boy became Eyebrows,” she identified with a cocky smile. 

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, “Oswin?” he asked. 

“The only,” she replied before remembering her genetic duplicates, “well sort of,” she conceded holding out her hand. 

The Doctor approached, walking a semi-circle around her but made no move to take her hand, “You died,” he stated succinctly. 

“Saving your life if I remember correctly, surely a handshake isn’t too much to ask for someone who saved your life,” Oswin pointed out, her eyes indicating the hand in front of her still held in the air. 

“You’re a hologram,” The Doctor pointed out passing his hand through hers thoughtlessly. 

Oswin nodded, retracting her hand, “I see your point,” she replied, “You could have indulged me,” she added, her big brown eyes holding a sadness that countered the careless crook of her mouth. 

“Well give me a few minutes and I’ll forget what you look like,” he joked sombrely, the anger in his words seeping through even as he brushed them aside with a sweep of his hand. “So tell me, Oswin, how are you still alive and why are you on my ship?” The Doctor asked, exhaustion evident in his voice. 

Oswin told him everything that had happened to her: how Clara had saved her, gone back in time to get a map of her brain and how her Tardis was working to wire her into a hard light hologram. She then related her odd journey over here. During this time The Doctor’s face changed from suspicious to sad to intrigued. 

“You somehow transmitted yourself across the Time Vortex,” The Doctor identified, curiosity seeping into his voice as he raised his eyebrows. “I suppose you have always been impossible,” he admitted, his eyes remaining on her awkwardly. “I’m going to turn to the console now but I’m hoping if we keep talking I can keep you in my memory,” he explained, turning to face the console slowly and initiate a scan, looking for anything that would indicate how her arrival was possible. 

"What do you want me to say?" Oswin asked, suddenly self-conscious. 

"Oh I don't care just keep going," he replied distractedly as he toggled readouts. 

"What were you playing? On the guitar?" Oswin asked noting the instrument slung over his shoulder for the first time. 

"I said keep talking not try to start a conversation," he pointed out in annoyance, bringing his sonic screwdriver to his ear and tapping it before shaking his head. He turned to her, "doesn't matter," he added, "I still couldn’t remember what you looked like but I still know who you are so that might be progress... Or it might be because of hundreds of other factors we're not controlling," The Doctor vacillated before sighing. 

Oswin suddenly felt odd, like she was intoxicated and hungover at the same time, woozy and in pain. 

"Are you okay?" The Doctor asked, trying to remember his descriptive catalog of Clara's faces and wondering if they would be applicable. 

Oswin shook her head with deliberate slowness but even that sent shocks of pain through her. The Doctor turned to the console to see what was happening to his recent re-acquaintance as Oswin felt herself being pulled back through the time vortex. 

She felt her existence untether as she was stretched through the colours of the vortex before falling into darkness. Although she had spent much of her incorporeal existence in the darkness beyond sleep she knew instantly that this was different, this darkness was the embodiment of fear, of being surrounded by hundreds of somethings you could neither name or see but wished you malice. She felt the pain of it, of hundreds of little claws pulling her apart in the darkness, her scream silenced as a hand choked her, digging deep within her as she felt her consciousness shatter. 

* * * 

Clara opened the Tardis door to find beautiful turquoise water from horizon to horizon. She looked down at the ground which felt like it was undulating softly beneath them and saw even patterns on the deep blue and brown surface. She walked around to the other side of the Tardis, the island was small, only a couple of paces across and slightly fewer wide, and when Clara made it to the other side she saw something under the ocean just in front of it. The creature came closer until she realised it was the head of a massive turtle. It broke the water and looked at her curiously, sniffing the air around her as she held her hand out tentatively. She spoke to it, introducing herself, the ship, and the currently absent Ashildr before the giant turtle-creature seemed appeased and let it’s head sink into the water once more. 

When Ashildr came out Clara was sitting outside the Tardis, her feet dangling over the edge of the shell as she looked out over the peaceful ocean. 

“You landed us on a giant turtle,” Clara commented matter-of-factly without turning to face her companion. 

“Really?” Ashildr asked before realising that Clara was serious, “Is it okay?” she asked. 

Clara nodded. “He,” she corrected, her back still to Ashildr as she closed her eyes to enjoy the smell of the cool breeze. 

Ashildr sat down beside her and tried to see this place like Clara did but to her it just seemed empty, boring. 

“Close your eyes,” Clara instructed calmly. 

Ashildr looked at her unconvinced before following her lead and closing her eyes. She saw it then, the ocean world as seen by their host, followed by flashes of seemingly disjointed images as if it was trying to communicate with them. 

“Huh,” Ashildr commented intrigued, opening her eyes again as the telepathic link faded into the background of her consciousness. 

“Yes please,” she heard Clara utter and turned to see Clara petting the shell beside her. 

There was a definite shift of movement beneath their feet as the creature’s speed increased. 

“He’s going to show us his world,” Clara explained, beaming as excitement danced in her eyes. 

Ashildr smiled at the sight of Clara’s happiness, glad this world was having the intended effect. 

Their host brought them to a field of shimmering algae that glinted in the sun and made the ocean shine, followed by the only actual piece of land on the ocean planet - which was only visible at certain parts of the day. They met various forms of aquatic life and spent the afternoon swimming with their host, some of his family and a group of what appeared to be seal-dolphin. When the sun began to set it was as if the entire colour spectrum was painted across the sky and Clara lay back to enjoy it, trying to focus on the peace here as if it could heal her. 

Ashildr watched her then, the occasionally furrowed brow an indication that her thoughts were shifting elsewhere. 

"The Doctor would have been bored out of his mind here," Clara commented and Ashildr nodded. 

She herself had been bored at times but Clara seemed to be enjoying herself and she did not want to disturb that. Maybe he would have been the same. 

When the sun had set below the horizon they thanked their tour-guide profusely for sharing his world and returned to the Tardis. 

“Thank you,” Clara uttered contentedly, turning to her friend, “That planet was beautiful.” 

Ashildr watched as Clara went to the console and set them in drift mode, noting her brow furrow as she focused on the readout intently.

Clara looked up at the ceiling, “Where is she?” she asked the Tardis and Ashildr came up behind Clara and looked over her shoulder, the mass of data that had made up Oswin no longer visible on the readout. 

“Nina?” Clara tried, “What happened to Oswin?” she asked again, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach at the silence that was her reply. 

* * * 

Oswin came out of the black to feel only quiet. She had grown so accustomed to the feeds from Nina’s sensors that their sudden absence left her with an aching, isolating chill. She tried to open her eyes but her eyelids, and for that matter the datastream she had come to visualise as her body, felt weighed down by something that was not quite external to her. She finally got her eyes open and found herself sitting in a chair in the console room of The Doctor’s Tardis. She turned her head slowly to the movement on the stairs, a slight wave of dizziness effecting her as she moved, and saw The Doctor walking toward her.

“Oswin,” The Doctor stated, the lack of assurance in his voice making it almost a question, “Look down slowly,” he instructed calmly. 

She did so, that impression of heaviness dogging her thoughts. She saw her hands on her lap but there was a consistency to them she had not seen in a long time. She stood up quickly, shifting herself a bit too fast and nearly toppling forward as The Doctor stepped forward to catch her, helping her balance before stepping back again. 

“You’re used to being insubstantial, you’re going to need to slow down a bit now that you have a form,” The Doctor cautioned, a small smile on his lips. 

He watched the smile spread across her face as she purposefully closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek before recovering herself, holding an arm with each hand and stepping back. 

“I can touch,” she stated, her eyes dancing with joy at the simple act. 

The Doctor’s stared past her, his eyes clouded over and Oswin realised she looked like Clara. Even if he could not remember her there was some part of him that felt her absence. She released his arms and took another step back as The Doctor’s eyes met hers again.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

Oswin thought back, thankful that her mind was not hampered in the same way as her body’s reaction time. Her brow furrowed as the indicated memory surfaced. 

“I was here and then I was in pain,” she answered simply as she looked up at The Doctor. 

The Doctor nodded, the big brown eyes causing a disconnected sharp pain in his gut that he waved off. 

“Nina sent you back over here after her defences almost tore you apart," The Doctor explained as he moved to the console in the middle of the room pulled up the scanning function. “Her defences were in phase with the wrong time - she literally could not remember you,” he noted, looking up at Oswin for a moment while pondering the odd flaw. He looked down at the console again before continuing. "She gave me the mapping of your brain and the schematic for suspending a matrix data-slice inside a specialised hard-light hologram, although I tweaked the latter a bit,” he added offhandedly, his face quirking in a self-satisfied half smile as he looked at her again before returning to the read-outs. “You’re still a hologram but with all the extra sensors in your outer layer you should be able to function in most ways as if human,” he finished, satisfied with the readings. 

Oswin watched him look from her to the console and back as she took careful steps around the console room, stroking the railing and then the various surfaces of the console, amazed at how much she could feel. 

"Thank you," she uttered, wishing there was something more, something to address how _good_ it felt to stand, to walk, to touch. 

He looked up at her and gave an understated half-smile before turning to the console again and fiddling with the controls.

"Are you still having trouble remembering?" She asked cautiously, realising he too could forget who she was.

He nodded without raising his eyes. "I can form new memories of you but you aren't her. I still can't hold the image of your face," he admitted. "Thankfully there are other ways of identifying you - just warn me if you decide to change your projected clothes," he added a bit sheepishly as he scratched the side of his head. 

“Your memories aren’t gone though, they’re just hidden, right?” she inquired. 

The Doctor nodded, “It is a Time Lord neural block, it was incorrectly set but it’s been very effective,” he replied ruefully. 

After his most recent return from Nottingham he had looked into ways of tampering with the device directly but his initial attempts had not proven fruitful, every subsequent trip into their past ending with him forgetting, and he abandoned the task when Nina had entrusted him with Oswin. 

“But it’s still just hiding them,” Oswin deduced, “like the Dalek machine was trying to hide my memories in order to make me a Dalek - block me from being able to remember being human.” 

The Doctor considered the point and nodded, following on from her thoughts, “And since we can disable the Dalek neural filter with electricity…,” he said more to himself before turning to Oswin again, “…if we focus an electrical charge into the correct part of the brain…” he began.

“…we should be able to short circuit your block,” Oswin cut in, smiling broadly. 

The Doctor pulled up a brain scan from a few weeks ago, gesturing for Oswin to come over. She came over, gaining more control of this body with every step, and stood beside him as they discussed the best method of delivering the energy charge and how to determine where it should be focused. 

“Before we do this you should double check it still holds if you actually see her,” Oswin suggested, “It might be fading on it's own, after all you remember me," she pointed out, "and we are essentially talking about electrocuting you,” she added. 

The Doctor’s lips pressed together in a thin line and he sighed. 

“I’ve been back on our timeline so often I nearly met myself twice,” he admitted, “It’s too dangerous.” 

Oswin saw it then, the desperation in his eyes. 

“You haven’t been back on mine,” she suggested, “she visited me on the Starship Alaska to get the brain mapping. I know the perfect place for you to watch her without her being able to see you,” Oswin assured. 

The Doctor knew he should be considering this more carefully but he nodded, watching as Oswin spoke to Idris while pulling up a blueprint of the Starship Alaska. 

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Nina found herself periodically trapped in her own time loop: the realisation that she was killing Oswin followed by the sound of her own screams joining Oswin’s as she cursed her inability to hold the different threads of time culminating in trying to piece together Oswin’s scattered fragments. She knew Oswin was safe with Idris, that The Doctor would fix her, but her guilt tormented her even as she felt Oswin’s loss more acutely than she could have ever anticipated. 

* * *

_‘There was once an immortal who traveled the galaxies. One day he accidentally saved a very clever girl from brain sucking machines. They ended up traveling together.’_

The Doctor walked in to the dark auditorium, his life echoing around the room from the voice on the stage. It felt surreal, hearing details of your life but unable to recognise the voice who was sharing those details with strangers. He stood at the back and looked up to the stage, his eyes focusing on the small figure whose voice was filling the room. She looked like Oswin of course, the audience thought she was, but as he watched her he felt the familiar but elusive pull of his memories returning, making him feel whole again piece by piece. He felt the numbness he carried around slowly replaced by the pain of missing her and tears welled in his eyes as he watched her smile at the memory of their travels. 

_‘He brought her on many adventures and together they saw wonders and horrors of the universe. They saved each other's lives multiple times over and before they realised it was happening, had become completely dependant on the other's existence…’_

Despite the aching loneliness in his gut he relished tracing her face, it was currently the one on page 28 - lips pressed, eyes shifting down as they inflated - she was trying to stop herself from crying. The realisation cut him deeply but he forced himself to stay put.

_‘Neither had ever said a word, they didn't need to…Although maybe they should have…’_

The Doctor felt the wetness on his cheeks as his lips mouthed the words he had never been able to say to her. Surely she knew? But that was no excuse for his cowardice. 

_‘She died on a no name planet in a distant part of the universe and for the first time he couldn't save her. He lost his mind to his grief…he had been a little crazy anyway…’_

“Hey,” he uttered softly, a smile breaking across his tear-lined face as he felt her affection for him in the pretend-insult. He saw the tears glisten in her eyes and found himself raising his hand as if he could touch her and wipe them from her eyes. 

He knew he needed to look away, he needed to test if the latency period between seeing her and forgetting, but he could not take his eyes off her. His Clara. So close but unreachable. 

_‘He worked for years on a way to get her back, plotting to sneak into to the very domain of the Time Lords via the least defended path - the dungeons.’_

‘Why did she have to mention the Time Lords?’ The Doctor asked himself, his mind spinning. ‘Could they track her from the mere mention of them? This ship recorded everything, would they find her through a transmission?’ He questioned before setting on erasing the broadcast afterwards - just in case. 

_‘Now the Time Lords don't have dungeons like most, they have dungeons of the mind and the immortal fought his way through chambers of his worst fears for Four. And a Half. Billion. Years…’_

The reminder of his time inside the confessional dial chilled him. It had not felt like 4.5 billion years but there had been a moment every cycle when he realised what he had been doing, killing himself over and over for her, swimming in the sea of his own skulls. The thought rolled over him in a wave of anguish and something akin to emotional nausea, the pain in his chest pressing down on him because he knew he would do it again. Maybe Ashildr had been right, maybe she was too dangerous for him to know. He had wiped his brain and not even that had stopped him trying to reach her again. The Master had finally seduced him to chaos. She might not be able to gloat but she had known: ‘You’d go to hell if she asked,’ Missy had said. Clara had never asked but he had gone willingly. 

_‘He spent four and a half billion years etching away at their security system and when he finally got through he stole a time machine and caught her the very moment before her death…’_

And he remembered the moments after, when he lost himself, grabbed the gun from the security guard and shot the General. He remembered the fear on Clara's face. It had not made him stop, he cared too much about her being alive, but it had made him realise just how far he had gone for her, how dangerous she was to him. And forgetting her had made him even more desperate. 

He saw the other figures come on to the stage and cursed under his breath. It was too soon. He closed his eyes against the tears pressing on them and tried to hold every bit of her image in his brain burning her onto his retina. 

And then she was gone, leaving the stage of her own volition, happy her ruse was over. The Doctor watched the singers for a few moments, hoping to maintain her presence by force of will, but the memories faded like they always did. He was left with a numbness in his chest and a feeling of absence, no less frustrating for how much of his life he now lived with it. 

He left the auditorium and found a connection to the ship entertainment system in one of the hallway panels, wiping the video of Clara before returning to his Tardis. 

* * * 

Oswin watched the Alaska on screen, ensuring no one was lingering between this Tardis and the American Diner parked in the next storage hold over. 

She opened the door to the Tardis and stole into the next storage cupboard. 

“Nina?” she whispered, “Nina please let me in, I don’t have long and I want to talk to you.” 

She heard a click and pushed tentatively at the door to find it open. 

It felt odd being solid in this Tardis she knew better than her current body and she eased her hand along the countertop as Nina beeped at her. 

She pulled her hand away and addressed Nina, “I know you can hear me but I haven’t figured out how to understand you in this body.” 

“You’re no longer a free data stream, you have form,” came a voice she recognised in her head. She felt the pang of loss at the coldness in her tone. 

“I miss you,” tumbled from her mouth before she could stop it and she felt the voice bristle inside her. "Let me transfer, let me talk to you, I don't have much time," she repeated. 

“I almost killed you Oswin, take your form and enjoy your life,” Nina replied bitterly and Oswin felt her depart. 

She shook her head, the movement still making her a little nauseous. She closed her eyes, trying to feel the time-stream that functioned as the database holding Nina together, the one she had resided in for most of this new life, but it would not coalesce. She felt it slip though her mental fingers, ephemeral. 

"Dammit Nina I don't care what happened," she exclaimed, a desperate edge to her voice as she glanced around, waiting for Nina to acknowledge her. 

When no response was forthcoming a growl of frustration left her vocal processors. 

“Of all the stubborn..,” she muttered under her breath before clearing her throat. "I forgive you," she uttered, "I owe you my life, and I forgive you,” she enunciated purposefully before waiting again for some response. 

The silent reply made her gut ache and she thought for a moment about staying, but the earlier version of her was already here and Clara and Ashildr would be back any moment. She turned to the door of the diner and took a few steps before turning back.

“Be kind to yourself,” she commented, her voice laced with the sorrow of defeat as everything else she wanted to say stuck in her throat. 

She turned back to the door and exited the diner, slipping back into the blue box without incident. 

* * * 

Nina listened to the door close as Oswin left. She knew Oswin needed her own life, that what she (they?) felt was a residual link from how closely they had been integrated for what, in computer terms, had been years. Pushing Oswin away made the most sense for both of them and yet Nina could not help the part of her that felt Oswin’s absence like a void within herself. 

Clara and Ashildr entered a few minutes later with the link to Alaska-based Oswin’s active scan and Nina realised with a shock that she had immediately known what time Oswin had been from when she had arrived at the door. She had also immediately changed frames of reference when Clara and Ashildr entered. In fact, apart from the nearly terminal episode with Oswin, the temporal haziness that usually accompanied her interactions with her passengers had become sharper in the past eight weeks of relative time. She brought her consciousness backwards and recognised the coherence she had built up working on Oswin’s scan, feeling happiness flare in spite of the surrounding emotion of loss. Oswin had given her the most precious of gifts, confidence in herself, and she would treasure it. 

* * *

The Doctor entered the Tardis distractedly. He looked up at the figure on the other side of the console, watching her intently for a moment before confirming it was Oswin.

“Everything okay?” Oswin asked with a suspicious casualness, trying to hide the fact she had returned only moments before but mentally hitting herself for asking such a stupid question. 

He walked up to the console wordlessly and she took a few steps towards him, reading his face, “You still can’t remember,” she stated sombrely. 

He shook his head, his expression slack as his eyes betrayed a reckless determination. He made his way to the console and pulled up the scanners before clicking a few more buttons and stepping back. 

“Hit the yellow one - we’ll need a recent scan of my brain to work from,” he instructed determinedly. 

Oswin hesitated at the chill in his voice but complied, watching as a three dimensional scan of his brain showed on screen. It shifted and changed as he moved slightly. 

“Now watch the screen and have the Tardis record it,” The Doctor instructed before closing his eyes. 

“Which button is record?” Oswin asked self-consciously. 

She used to be able to access this information as easily as breathing but she was no longer able to see it in the same way and the thought was both frustrating and humbling. 

“The lever to the left of the yellow button, over three rows,” The Doctor responded evenly without opening his eyes. 

“Ah," Oswin muttered, and the Doctor heard the click as the recorder was engaged. 

Oswin watched the screen, her eyes occasionally flickering to The Doctor’s blank face as the image remained more or less the same. She sighed and leaned closer to the screen, trying to determine minute changes and realised there were a few small areas in the prefrontal cortex that seemed to be lightening from the bright green background noise to a deep yellow. 

“If you’re trying to activate the block it’s working,” Oswin commented leaning back again as the areas became more obvious on the scan. 

“Good. Now hit the yellow button again,” he instructed and she complied without hesitation. 

He came over to the screen Oswin had been watching and played back the images on loop, watching the areas of yellow develop and fade instantly before developing again. 

“Which one do you think is primarily responsible?” Oswin asked watching him intently, his eyebrows furrowed at the screen before him. 

“One of them should be the master node,” he commented watching the loop again. “Probably this one,” he froze the loop and indicated the brightest spot.

“Are you sure?” Oswin asked. 

“Oh Oswin, even you know me better than that,” he replied with an ironic joviality before breaking into a grin, his eyes twinkling with the excitement of possibility as he dove under the console. 

Oswin followed suit, finding him tearing at wires. 

“So now all I need to do is find something we can set to spark,” he began, pausing as he looked at the wires in his hands, “you can help the Tardis to aim it and she can displace it to the right spot inside my skull,” he summarised looking up at her with a youthfulness she had never seen on this face. 

“But you don’t know which spot it is,” Oswin pointed out as he decided which wires he could use and sliced them from one end of their moorings as he began to strip them. 

“The brightest one,” he answered without looking up. 

Oswin rolled her eyes, the motion coming naturally but feeling a bit odd after the fact. 

“What if it paralyses you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows as he paused and looked up at her. 

“That is highly unlikely. It is more likely to cause a bigger memory problem, speech impairment, deafness…,” he enumerated trailing off with a gesture of his hand before returning to his work. 

Oswin’s eyebrows raised higher as her eyes widened. 

The Doctor looked up momentarily from the wires and chuckled to himself. 

“Page 56, ‘eyebrows to forehead, eyes bulging’,” he recited, his gaze switching from her back to the work at hand, “You do actually have some of the same expressions,” he explained. “That is evidently your ‘I can’t believe you’ face,” he added, glancing up with a wry smile. 

Oswin shook her head, seating herself on the stair a few feet from him.

“How can you even remember that?” she asked, allowing him to sidetrack them for the moment.

“I can remember the words but not the drawing,” he explained, "I imagine it looks quite similar,” he added frankly, blowing off the extra bits of cable housing before touching the wires together as they lit up in a bright silver-blue spark. 

At the sight of the spark Oswin renewed her attempts to convince him of the various flaws in this plan. They brainstormed other possibilities but even the most promising offered less hope of success and Oswin eventually accepted this plan and her part in it. They had both, against all odds, survived the Dalek Asylum, surely this was nothing in comparison. 

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

“Where is Oswin?” Clara repeated again, flicking a few switches to see if there was something she had missed, but the data was still gone.

A hologram flickered to life and Clara recognised Nina.

"Oswin is safe," Nina’s form responded, "There was an... accident," she hesitated, her part in it still paining her as her eyes shifted away from the women for a moment before turning back to continue, "She's with The Doctor on Idris," she explained.

Clara furrowed her brow but heard her words come from Ashildr's mouth.

"What do you mean accident?" Ashildr asked almost menacingly, taking a step towards the projection.

Nina looked up suddenly as if listening. Before either woman had time to react the Tardis alarm went off followed in quick succession by the familiar whoosh sound of the Tardis activating, the alarm silencing as quickly as it began.

"Where are we going?" Clara asked, holding on to the console as the ride became bumpier than usual, the projection of Nina remaining perfectly aligned to the horizontal.

"It's a distress signal from Idris,” Nina explained, “Something has happened,” she added, the voice sounding off, as if she was trying to hide her own concern.

The landing thud resounded and for the briefest of moments no one moved.

Clara scrambled for the door first, racing through the diner and paying little heed to the populated world beyond the door and the massive collection of Earth landmarks rising above her. She exited and found a blue phone box parked a few feet away.

She unlocked the familiar door with the key that still hung around her neck and ran in, Ashildr a few steps behind her as she entered to find Oswin on the floor of the console room trying to revive the prone form of The Doctor.

"His hearts are beating and he's breathing but he is still unconscious," Oswin explained without preamble.

Clara ran to him, putting her ear to his chest and, sure enough, his hearts were beating.

"Don't you dare die you daft old man," she chastised, the smell of him making the pit of fear in her stomach all the more acute as she leaned back and grabbed his hand, holding it to her cheek with both of hers.

* * *

The Doctor’s mind pulled itself out of the blackness that had followed the pain but it felt different somehow, like all the furniture had been rearranged in a room that he knew well. As he came to consciousness he had the dawning realisation that someone was beside him. He felt the touch of a hand on his and his mind sparked, fully awakening him as he felt her thoughts as an extension of his own.

“Clara,” he heard himself whisper through the residual humming of his eardrums.

He felt her smile light up inside him as his hand recognised the contours of her cheek, the long lost image coming easily to mind.

He tried to open his eyes but the blackness remained.

“My Clara,” he uttered, his voice scratchy as he felt the corners of his mouth drawn inexorably upward.

He felt Clara’s confusion filter through the joy of his success.

“Can you see me Doctor?,” she asked and he felt her lean forward, their hands falling to his chest as one released its hold.

“Are my eyes are open then?,” he asked evenly, the smile fading from his face.

He heard another figure crouch beside him, the buzz of light energy against his leg letting him know it was Oswin.

“What happened?” Clara asked Oswin, holding his hand tightly.

Oswin was silent for a few moments, her form shifting before she got up again. He heard her typing at the console above his feet and pulled his hand from Clara’s, feeling for a railing support pole at the edge of the upper level. Clara helped him shift himself to a seated position as he pulled himself towards the support pole and leaned against it.

“Do you want me to help you get up?” Clara asked, her voice soft, clothing rustling as she moved beside him.

He shook his head, feeling for her hand before resting his on top of it as a smile broke across his face unbidden.

“We must have short-circuited your optic nerve,” Oswin finally responded.

His smile faded but did not leave his lips as turned his head to meet Oswin’s words and nodded.

“You stupid man,” Clara exclaimed faintly, her concern bleeding through the words.

“It’s okay, it worked,” he replied to Oswin before facing Clara again, “I remember.”

* * *

Clara was oscillating between joy and guilt, her heart bursting at his recognition and breaking at the knowledge of what he had done as her guilt bubbled to the surface as anger.

“Are you saying you blinded yourself to try to remember me after forgetting me on purpose?” she burst out, pulling her hand out from under his and standing. “Why can't you just live your life and leave me be?" She ranted, turning from him as tears coalesced in the corners of her eyes. She caught the movement of the Tardis door closing and realised Oswin and Ashildr had left, the space around them empty.

"I know you don't mean that," he answered sombrely, extending his arm to her.

"No I don't," she bit back frustratedly, turning back and dropping beside him again, "I thought I would give anything to see you again but not this, not more of your pain,” she explained shaking her head as the guilt and anger churned inside her, tearing at her insides. She leaned over him and tried to in vain to meet his eyes. “Why do you keep hurting yourself for me?” she exploded, pounding his chest with her fists in emphasis.

Her eyes blurred with tears as she felt him grab her fists in his hands and kiss each one in turn before pulling her into his arms, her arms wrapping around him reflexively.

“How do you not know?" He whispered into her hair, desperation seeping into his voice.

A lump caught in her throat as she tried not to feel the meaning behind those words, as she tried not to understand the instigated closeness and the way his hands flexed against her shirt grasping it tightly. She could not let herself feel this only to lose him again.

Clara felt him brush her hair behind her ear before pressing a light kiss to her temple, the carelessly intimate gesture vibrating within her. She sat up as his grip loosened, watching the expression beyond those unfocused eyes before inching closer and putting her hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheekbone. She felt his head slip from her fingers as it met the pole behind it with a hard ring. Hurriedly leaning forward, she grabbed his head between her hands, holding it upright as his eyelids opened, eyes searching for her face in the darkness.

“I’m okay,” he assured as she released his head carefully, “Just…” he continued, his head falling back again as his eyes fell shut.

She checked his pulse and respiration but he was alive. She pulled his body down carefully on it’s side before manoeuvring him onto his back, perpendicular to his previous position. She grabbed a few pillows from his bedroom, which the Tardis had helpfully moved closer, and put them under his head, making him as comfortable as she was able. She watched him for a few moments, processing all that had just happened, before moving to the Tardis console to see exactly what he had done to himself.

* * *

Ashildr watched them, the scene affecting her more than she let on.

Are you seriously telling me that you blinded yourself to try to remember me after forgetting me on purpose?’

She caught Oswin’s eye and motioned to the door as the other woman nodded in agreement, following her to the door and clicking it closed carefully behind them.

Oswin looked up and around, her eyes sparkling with wonder at seeing the world through her new optics - of being able to move beyond the field of the respective Tardis'. She pointed out the Imperial Bridge and the Sayer’s monument to Ashildr who also saw the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower. It appeared to be a museum of earth history but the garish neon lights and substantial crowds made it feel almost like a theme park.

“It reminds me of Las Vegas,” Ashildr commented, taking in the transparent dome above them and the darkness of space beyond.

Oswin looked at her curiously.

“Sorry, too far into the past,” Ashildr explained, “Shall we have a look?”

Oswin nodded, a smile on her face that made her seem so much younger than Clara even though they must've been around the same age at the time of their respective deaths.

They spent the next few hours wandering the various monuments and the market stalls that had cropped up between them, Ashildr explaining the occasional historical inaccuracies to Oswin who took everything in with an excitement that was infectious.

As they made their way back to the Diner Oswin’s steps began to slow, her expression cloudy.

“You’re worried about Nina,” Ashildr stated.

Oswin nodded, “She’s not exactly talking to me,” she answered guardedly.

Ashildr found a bench not far from the Diner and gestured for Oswin to sit beside her.

“She was worried about you when we got the distress signal,” Ashildr prompted, “She was trying to hide it but there was a trace of panic in her voice.”

Oswin’s eyes met hers and for the briefest of moments the unguarded emotion in them made Ashildr’s mouth dry and a pit form in her stomach. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to register that this was not Clara and the mixture of sadness and desperate hope radiating from the other woman was not for her.

“She means something to you,” Ashildr probed knowingly, anxious to turn the attention away from her seemingly odd reaction.

Oswin’s eyes fell to her lap before she hesitantly met Ashildr’s, seeming oblivious to Ashildr’s moment of disconnect.

“Of course she does. She saved my life,” she pointed out matter-of-factly, her eyebrows furrowing as her face became a mass of conflicting emotions.

Ashildr raised her eyebrows and Oswin sighed.

“She was the first person I saw when I woke up and the only person I could even communicate with for what, to us, was years,” she explained. “She knows my every memory and I essentially lived inside her brain so of course she means something to me,” Oswin acknowledged before shifting her gaze to the horizon, pausing before continuing. “It was different when I was insubstantial,” she tried to explain, her eyes narrowing as her voice grew softer and more measured. “We were the same person quite a lot of the time, separate but merged if that makes any sense. I could feel her…” she trailed off as her eyes fell to her lap for a moment before she turned to Ashildr. “As much as I enjoy being able to touch and stand it also feels odd being disconnected from that. Like I’m missing something that both is and isn’t me,” Oswin postulated as she narrowed her eyes and let them drop to her lap again.

“You miss her,” Ashildr pointed out.

Oswin looked up at Ashildr and nodded slowly, as if it was only in hearing someone else say it that she understood.

“Yes,” she affirmed, gaining confirmation in the assertion. “You're right. Thank you,” she added as she put her hand over Ashildr’s briefly before standing and making her way to the Diner with determined steps.

Ashildr followed, unlocking the door when Oswin could not, to find the familiar diner before them.

She let Oswin step inside, the air tensing around them as Oswin stepped toward the counter.

“Nina?” Ashildr called out to the room as Oswin traced her fingers along the top of the counter. She had seen her do that a lot, the simple act of touching bringing such wonder to her face. “She’s alright,” Ashildr assured Nina, knowing the words were pointless by this time.

She turned to Oswin, “I’ll leave you two alone,” she uttered softly, watching Oswin turn to her and nod before she left her and made her way through the console room to the rooms beyond.

* * *

Nina could feel Oswin the moment she stepped on to the Tardis despite the interference from the holographic resonance.

Her consciousness drifted towards her as she wrestled with where they were now. The feeling, although far from foreign, was difficult to untangle. She was in the correct time, she knew where they were temporally, but her mixture of joy, pride, guilt and disconnect made her unsure how to approach.

As soon as Ashildr shut the door behind her she heard Oswin’s tones.

“I can't make you talk to me," Oswin offered, seating herself at the counter and glancing around her, "but I hope you will."

Nina watched her for a few moments, wanting nothing more than to know what Oswin was feeling as she drummed her fingers atop the counter. She steeled herself against the challenge before her, picked a different face for the holographic interface, and projected behind her.

Oswin felt a slight shift in her holographic resonance, turned on her stool and stood.

“If you think a different face is going to make this easier you’re wrong,” Oswin pointed out, watching Nina turn to her with Rory’s face, “You took that face from my memory knowing I was never interested in him,” Oswin expanded, her eyebrows raising pointedly.

Nina’s face changed to Amy and then Ashildr before shifting in quick succession through the images in her database including a large bipedal blue-faced bear creature, a small sentient flowering bush and the Dalek that had trapped her.

The last one caused a flicker in Oswin’s holographic matrix and it seemed like Nina changed it faster than the rest in response.

“You’ve made your point,” Oswin assured her but the faces kept changing. Oswin took a step forward and touched the wrist of the interface, her fingers falling through but the integration of their fields allowing Oswin to stop the faces. It settled on Nina’s dark skin and deep eyes as if it had been the default as Oswin moved out of the field and Nina’s face became Clara’s.

Oswin raised her eyebrows before nonchalantly seating herself back on one of the stools, “You are being immature,” she pointed out, “and it is just showing me that you _do_ care.”

“I’m showing you that you will never know who I am,” Nina replied from a face so like her own.

Oswin chuckled in spite of herself, “Have you forgotten that we inhabited nearly the same space for quite a while?” she asked. “I know you are so desperate to be good and liked that you overcompensate for your insecurities, you work so hard trying to maintain the facade that it is impossible for anyone to know you enough to like you,” Oswin assessed, raising an eyebrow as Nina remained silent. “You didn’t have a choice with me, I just invaded,” Oswin joked, one side of her mouth quirking into a smile before retreating again, her eyes falling to the ground.

Silence spread between them, the air thick with things trying to be said.

“I nearly killed you,” Nina voiced softly switching back to her usual darker skin and nearly-black curls, her deep brown eyes remaining focused on Oswin.

Oswin raised her eyes, “I know you didn’t mean to,” she assuaged with the merest hint of a smile at Nina’s change.

“I…” Nina hesitated, her projection shuttering and Oswin could feel the complicated layers of emotion choking the room.

Oswin raised her eyes, addressing Nina via the Tardis itself, “Let me download,” she asked.

The projection of Nina nodded before flickering out of existence and Oswin felt herself be pulled into the black, the odd shift from corporeality aching for the briefest moment before she felt the seemingly endless expanse of Nina’s databases. As much as she revelled in her new form there was a peacefulness in this incorporeality that she had not realised she would miss.

She felt Nina by her side a moment later, nervousness coming off her in waves.

‘I don’t understand this,’ she admitted without words.

‘Tardis’s don’t do feelings?’ Oswin teased in reply.

‘There is usually a measure of affection between Tardis and pilot but you are not my pilot and it is not the affection that confuses me but how much I _hurt_ when I found I had ripped you into barely recognisable shreds,’ Nina explained, ‘How transferring you to Idris felt like removing part of myself,’ she added.

‘And how do you feel now?’ Oswin asked, trying to keep her reaction measured even as she felt Nina’s words making her glow.

‘Better, much better,’ she replied and Oswin felt her smile.

‘I don’t have to leave,’ Oswin offered.

‘You have your form, I can feel how much you enjoy being corporeal,’ Nina replied.

‘Sometimes,’ Oswin agreed.

‘Sometimes then,’ Nina seconded and Oswin could feel her smile.

‘But not now,’ Oswin commented.

‘Good,’ Nina agreed.

Oswin felt the walls between them start to dissolve and urged Nina on, communicating in pure impulse until there was no difference between their feelings and thoughts. They remained buried within each other for long moments out of time, experiencing the other within themselves, before mutually fracturing again, both left equivalently breathless by the experience.

* * *

Hours after she had left them Ashildr returned to the console room and flicked on the monitors. She saw Oswin and Nina sitting next to each other in one of the booths of the Diner, laughing like old friends, their holograms occasionally integrating as they touched.

She shut the monitor off and sighed, wondering at what point being alone had begun to bother her so much.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

The Doctor exhaled as he opened his eyes to darkness. He was lying on the floor, a pillow under his head and the hum of the console room around him. He heard footsteps and felt Clara's hand in his, the cacophony of her thoughts instantly overwhelming him as some half remembered muscle memory threw up a mental wall, allowing him to focus on the strand at the forefront of her mind. 

"I'm okay," he confirmed to Clara's unuttered question as he released her hand to push himself up from the floor into a seated position. 

Clara took his hand again and helped him to stand. 

“Irani Four is exactly where I was going to bring us,” he stated by way of reply. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Clara pointed out, watching as he released her hand and took the three steps to the Tardis console. 

He let his right hand rest against the edge of the console as he turned to her, brow furrowed. 

“Yes you did, you said the Tardis helped you find the closest hospital with the necessary technology and we were now on Irani Four,” The Doctor clarified matter-of-factly. 

Clara shook her head before remembering the uselessness in using that gesture. 

“I didn’t say it, I _thought_ it,” Clara clarified, walking towards him with a raised eyebrow and taking his left hand. 

_‘What am I thinking now?’_ Clara formed the words in her mind as she gazed into his unfocused eyes. She tried to think of a coherent thought for him to repeat but she was stymied as her own thoughts kept gravitating to how much his proximity was making her feel. 

The Doctor pulled away, his cheeks tinged pink, “I don’t think that was what you meant,” he offered as he turned to the console and began to hit keys and flick switches he knew by touch. 

Clara swallowed, “So you can read minds when you touch people,” she asserted, her voice wavering as she wondered how much of her thoughts he caught. 

“So it seems,” The Doctor replied turning to her briefly to arch an eyebrow before facing the console again, “The shock and the blindness must’ve reactivated that part of my brain,” he postulated. 

Clara nodded. She turned from him and cleared her throat, still trying to cleanse her mind of all the things she did not want him to know but her thoughts circled around this unsaid thing between them - the absolute trust that had become the cornerstone to something more, something so substantial that he killed for her and was tortured for millennia just to save her. And even that most extreme of acts had not led to an admission despite her attempt.

She turned to face him, “To hell with it,” she uttered under her breath, taking the two paces between them in long strides before she took his hands and put them on her temples. 

She watched his face as she opened her mind to him, showed him the feelings she could never voice. He tried to pull away but she gently held his hands to her temples. 

“Clara,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the strain of her unfiltered emotion, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m not very good at this, letting you know how I feel. Neither of us are. This…,” she paused, taking an unnecessary breath, “This allows me to show you what I can’t seem to say,” she explained as she released her right hand and moved to touch his face. 

He leaned into her touch, all the feelings he had not been able to access in so long boiling to the surface. 

“Oh Clara…” he began, unable to find the words to continue. 

Clara took a step closer, chin raised as she breathed in the scent of him, her hand drifting from his hairline to his jaw. She pushed herself up on her toes and felt his breath ghost against her lips as he audibly swallowed. 

“I know you can’t see me but you can feel me,” she uttered softly, the proximity of their lips causing small vibrational waves between them.

She looked up to his sightless eyes, fingers stroking his cheek as the gap closed and her eyes fell shut. 

* * * 

His body flooded with warmth as his hands moved from their perch on her temples to tangle in her hair, her mouth opening against his as her left hand wrapped around him, pulling their bodies together. 

He released her and took a step back, separating them as his body reacted. 

Clara watched him as he held on to the edge of the console and made his way to the opposite side.

“Doctor what are you afraid of?” she asked, taking in the pained expression on his face.

He buried his face in his hands for a moment before looking back up at her, almost meeting her eyes, “I can’t bear feeling like this if I’m going forget you again,” he replied, as evenly as possible, unable to keep the pureness of his previous loss from seeping into his words. 

Clara nodded before making her way to him and linking their hands tentatively. 

He held her hand tightly, relishing the feeling of her realness. 

“We’re going to be okay,” she comforted as she cupped his cheek with her free hand. 

“You can’t know that,” The Doctor responded softly, taking the hand from his face and bringing it down between them. 

“You’re right,” she admitted, “But you said the block was fixed and even if it isn’t we will figure something out, we always do,” she comforted. “I’m here now and I wouldn’t give that up for anything,” she confirmed, holding his hands tightly. 

He felt a wave of emotional need well up in her, tangled in but overwhelming the desire also coursing within her. He brought her hands to his temples before moving his fingers to hers, opening his mind to her.

Clara gasped as she felt the rushing influx of his thoughts, a chaotic mess of people and places, parties and wars, brightness and pain. She saw something like a path emerge in the chaos as she felt him guide her, bringing her towards the brightest spot. As she grew closer the image solidified she saw the bright spot was orbited by memories of their adventures, his feelings buffeting her with a tidal force as she was pulled in to the warmth of that glow. 

When the feeling faded she opened her eyes again, finding herself wrapped in The Doctor’s arms as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

Before either could say a word there was a knock at the door, four taps in sharp succession.

The Doctor released her and Clara turned toward the door. 

“Clara,” he stated, staccato, “guide me,” he requested, holding his hand out to her, “and be careful.” 

Clara nodded, taking his hand and giving it a light squeeze to acknowledge she understood. 

She led him to the door, dropping his hand as she opened it. 

Her mouth fell open as she took in the person before her. 

“Well are you guys going to stay in there all day?” Missy asked with an air of impatience, “I’ve waited so long for you already,” she added with a mischievous smile. 

“Missy what are you doing here?” The Doctor asked, trying to focus on the sound and not give away his significant disadvantage. 

“Blind then eh?” she caught on as she brushed past Clara and entered the Tardis, standing in front of The Doctor as he tried fruitlessly to meet her eyes. 

“Fry your optic pathways trying to dislodge your neural block?” she taunted, her eyebrows raising as her smile spread wider. She turned to Clara and pouted, “All because he missed you,” she mock whimpered. 

“Missy leave her out of this,” he commanded, his voice resonating in the Tardis with an authority Clara rarely heard. “Why are you here?” he asked, his tone sounding both bored and frustrated. 

Missy made her way around the Tardis console as Clara watched her sharply. 

“Well I heard about my President-dethroning, General-shooting, Council-exiling best friend and I absolutely _had_ to find him to congratulate him on leaving Gallifrey in such chaos,” Missy explained, pausing in her circumnavigation to lean against the railing on the opposite side, “The people rising up against the General, no ruling class left with enough pull to do anything but watch the city shake and burn beneath them as the time web weakens,” she continued, gesturing with her hand as if painting a picture before her. She dropped it after a moment, eyes shifting from The Doctor to Clara and back. “Not that you didn’t make it hard for me to follow your timeline, all those little side trips to see her in the past,” Missy commented, gleefully watching Clara’s eyes widen at the knowledge as a flash of recognition came across The Doctor’s face. 

“…destroy the web of time and stand in the ruins of Gallifrey all to heal it’s own heart,” The Doctor muttered under his breath. 

“Now you get it,” Missy smirked. 

“Doctor?” Clara inquired, her eyes shifting from him to Missy. 

The Doctor turned, searching out Clara’s hand.

“The prophecy of the hybrid was that it would destroy Gallifrey and the web of time to heal itself,” The Doctor began with a deep breath, “I thought Ashildr was right, I thought it was me, or us. The memory wipe was to stop me from doing any more harm but without the memories of you I couldn’t feel how important it was to not remember you.” He chuckled sombrely at the paradox.

Clara could feel the knot in her stomach and the stinging in her eyes as The Doctor explained, so close to not caring if the world went to hell if she could be here with him. “So you weakened time even more without knowing what it could do,” Clara surmised. 

The Doctor shook his head, “Not entirely true. I knew that I was crossing a line but I did it anyway,” he admitted. 

“Well then,” Clara replied, gently withdrawing her hand and heading over to the Tardis console, “you know what we have to do,” she announced swallowing the lump in her throat at what it might mean for her. 

The Doctor turned to her voice, nodding slowly before stepping towards the console, feeling his way across the controls before typing in the coordinates he never thought he’d use again. 

Clara snapped her fingers, shutting the Tardis doors, before releasing the handbrake as Missy giggled, clapping her hands in glee. 

* * * 

As Clara exited she was shocked by how much Gallifrey looked like that painting of the Time War - the orange and yellow of fire colouring the otherwise darkened scene. 

The soldiers in their immediate vicinity had stopped, watching them with faces painted in confusion. The ground shook beneath them, a small tremor. The soldiers remained standing but Clara keened over precariously before regaining her balance. The Doctor came up behind her, searching for her hand and she took it without hesitation, looking up at his steady eyes as he gazed just shy of her. She wondered at the contact for a moment before realising that seeing through her eyes was his best option. 

_‘Yes,’_ she heard the word form in her mind, _‘Do you mind?’_ he asked. She shook her head before thinking, _‘No,’_ in response. 

She turned to those around her, looking from one faction to the next, taking in the differences in their clothing and realising they had landed in the middle of the battle. 

Missy strolled out from behind them and all eyes shifted to her. She pulled up a nearby piece of debris and sat on it, crossing her legs before stretching her arms expansively. 

"Don't mind me," she instructed, leaning back to watch the events unfold as she waved her hands in front of her to shoo off the attention. 

The ground shook again, harder this time, and The Doctor turned to Clara, putting his free hand on her hip to balance them both. She looked up at him, willing the world around them to just fall away, before stepping back as the ground stabilised and clearing her throat. 

She turned back to the soldiers to see the lines of the Time Lords shifting to allow a form through. As the figure approached it removed its helmet to reveal the General. 

“Are you still going to tell me you know nothing of the hybrid?” The General asked, taking in the sight of The Doctor holding Clara’s hand before noting that something was not quite right with his distant gaze. “Here you are, standing in the ruins of Gallifrey,” she continued drolly, "You were the defacto President to a non-existent Council and you left to save her," she pointed out, her gaze narrowing at Clara who still stood beside him holding his hand.

“The thing about prophecies is that you can avoid them as much as you want but they happen nonetheless,” The Doctor replied evenly, “How long has The Matrix been causing these earthquakes?” he asked. 

“It’s been almost two years,” answered one of the younger Gallifreyians to his right, “We want to destroy it but they won’t let us,” he explained. 

“Destroying the Matrix will destroy the world we have built, all our history, the very fabric of our lives,” The General countered. 

“Did you never figure out how to stop the quakes?” The Doctor asked evenly. 

“You caused it when you took her _Doctor _,” she bit back in response, indicating Clara, “Before you shot me and ran,” she added, raising her eyebrows incredulously.__

__The Doctor was silent for a moment, an expression of honest pain crossing his face, “I’m not a good man but I try to be.” he responded as he felt Clara’s hand squeeze his in acknowledgement._ _

__“Then bring her back to her death moment,” The General instructed._ _

__“No,” The Doctor responded instantly, determination lacing his voice with steel._ _

__The ground shook again._ _

__Clara swallowed, turning to The Doctor, "If I need to die to save the people of this world then bring me back to my death," she commanded, "But only you," she stipulated._ _

__“Yes Doctor,” Missy heckled from a few feet away, “You going to kill your girlfriend to save your homeworld?”_ _

__The Doctor ignored Missy and faced Clara as best he could._ _

__"This isn't about your death any more than it is about the disturbance in time I allowed when Rose saved her father, or Missy and her Vortex Manipulators or the Daleks and the Void Ship," he stated, turning to face The General._ _

__“I imagine you never tried to find another reason for the quakes?” The Doctor inquired, turning toward the General._ _

__The General's eyes shifted as she wondered what she had missed, “They are occurring because The Matrix is recognising the error in the time web," she answered, barely hiding her annoyance at the inane seeming question._ _

__The Doctor nodded, “Yes, but any Time Lord at any time could have caused the tear in the web that created the quakes because the ghosts in The Matrix, the millenia-old sentient machine that manages these little tears has been frozen, completely unconnected to time itself for years beyond counting. There was no feed of events and without that information the whole web is falling apart. It can no longer identify what is true,” he explained before turning back to Clara._ _

__"It's like Nina. She couldn't gauge time because you didn't have any so she attacked Oswin because her previous self didn't know she knew her in the future," he tried to clarify._ _

__Clara nodded as her brain wound through the seeming paradox._ _

__"If what you say is true then how do we stop it?" The General asked._ _

__The Doctor very pointedly released Clara's hand and slowly walked over to where Missy sat, carefully turning and sitting beside her as Missy narrowed her eyes at him curiously._ _

__"We don't until you give representation to the rest of Gallifrey," he stated._ _

__“We want to regenerate!” someone cried out from the Gallifreyian Front, followed by exclamations of agreement._ _

__The General screwed up her face in confusion._ _

__“This may have been about The Matrix but war has been immanent for centuries while you sat in your glass bubble,” The Doctor pointed out._ _

__The General turned to her opposition who were mostly nodding in agreement._ _

__The General turned back to The Doctor, "I can authorise a cease fire, the rest will have to be negotiated," she offered._ _

__He turned his head in the vague direction of the other line._ _

__“Fighting for justice may feel like a righteous cause but it is harder and far more worthy to talk for peace. Drop your weapons and I will ensure you get a voice in what happens next,” he offered._ _

__Clara watched as a young man spoke up from the front of the crowd, “And how do we know you won't just disappear again like you did before, leaving destruction in your wake? Do you know how many of us died because you left Gallifrey for your human harlot?” he accused._ _

__Clara turned to The Doctor and saw the anger in him flare to the surface. He stood, taking careful steps towards her and touching her arm to reorient himself before taking purposeful steps towards the voice. He misjudged the distance and ended up pressing against the man who spoke, his eyes straying to find a focus point in the darkness._ _

__"That human has died saving my life in more incarnations than those behind me have even regenerated so if I, as you say, leave destruction in my wake, what exactly would be the point of insulting me while I am trying to save your life?” he seethed._ _

__He paused, the world silent beyond the distant crackling of fire as he took a few steps back and turned, gesturing magnanimously, “He does have a point though,” he offered to all present before turning to the youth again, “What’s your name?” he asked._ _

__“Lucian,” he responded confidently._ _

__“Lucian,” The Doctor confirmed thoughtfully, nodding before turning back to the crowd, “Lucian has a point. I ran. But you’re just going to have to trust that I won’t leave until this is finished,” he stated, turning his head toward the young Gallifreyian._ _

__"A cease fire then," he agreed._ _

__Clara watched The Doctor exhale as he nodded his head._ _

__“Good. Then I need to summon a few friends," he said as he carefully retraced his steps toward his Tardis._ _

__The General gestured to those near The Doctor and they stepped forward, blocking his path to the Tardis as he walked in to them._ _

__"She can go," The General stated motioning to Clara, "I can't risk you disappearing on me."_ _

__“I need trust from all of you,” he reminded._ _

__“Call it a compromise,” The General shot back._ _

__The Doctor sighed and nodded in Clara's last known direction._ _

__"Nina?" She asked._ _

__"And Oswin," he confirmed._ _

__She nodded and returned to the Tardis._ _

__"Of course Clara does know how to fly a Tardis, quite well in fact," he pointed out, wishing he could see The General's face at his insinuation._ _

__Clara exited the Tardis a few moments later, distancing herself from it in anticipation of Nina’s arrival but before she could say anything there was a familiar whooshing and the American Diner materialised beside the Police Box._ _

__"Well that is all well and good but I'm bored," Missy's voice broke the silence otherwise only disturbed by the settling of the second Tardis. She stood up and scampered into the open door of the Police Box._ _

__Clara heard The Doctor say her name as she turned her head from the arriving Diner to see the door shut behind Missy. She ran towards it before grabbing at her key, trying to get it in the lock as it dematerialised before her._ _

__“Dammit,” Clara exclaimed at the empty space that moments before had held The Doctor’s Blue Box. She turned to see his expression darken._ _

__“I’m so sorry - I should’ve known she would try something like that,” she uttered as she made her way to stand beside him._ _

__His expression eased but he remained troubled, remembering the Paradox Machine Missy had created from Idris in her previous incarnation._ _

__“Don’t worry about it, we weren’t leaving for a while anyway,” he replied, trying to comfort her despite his concern as he began to calculate how he was going to get his Tardis back._ _

__Ashildr, who had stepped out of the Diner in time to see the Police Box disappear, approached Clara and The Doctor, taking in the expressions of each._ _

__“Let me guess, Missy?” Ashildr suggested raising an eyebrow._ _

__Clara nodded._ _

__"Don't worry, we’ll find her,” Ashildr consoled vaguely, flashing a less than confident smile at Clara._ _

__The Doctor’s face softened and he nodded but the grief did not leave his face, “Later,” he stated in response, “We have some work to do first,” he added with determination._ _

__He turned to those assembled around him._ _

__“Go home. Get some sleep, talk to your constituents, we begin negotiations at noon. Here,” he instructed indicating the ground before them before searching out The General’s direction. “I’m going to stay in there," he informed him, pointing in the general direction of the Diner, "and you’ll have to trust that I’m not going anywhere,” he stated, his tone bartering no objection._ _

__Clara watched the General nod in defeat as the assembled began to murmur and mill about. She took The Doctor’s hand and led him into the Diner, Ashildr close behind._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The touch-telepathy bit was inspired by a tumblr post that I think was written by Cyndi/butterflyinthewell (at least added to/reblogged by her) re: the Heaven Sent door scene and the headcannon that he was touch telepathic when he was younger… I love that idea, and that he lost it as he was forced to confirm, and don't really do it justice here. I looked for the post very unsuccessfully or I'd link it - if anyone comes across it let me know and I'll update this.
> 
> Also - I tried to balance him being unable to see with him giving response-cues. Hopefully I don’t have it horribly off.


	10. Chapter 10

“Oswin," The Doctor exclaimed, greeting his friend across Nina’s console room. 

“You can see!” she replied excitedly, bounding over to him before realising his eyes weren’t tracking her motion. She slowed her advance and looked at Clara quizzically. 

Clara held up their linked hands, “He’s become more telepathically sensitive,” she explained with a shrug of her eyebrows. 

"So what are we doing here?" Ashildr asked, the confusion evident in her voice as her eyebrows raised. "Not that it isn't lovely to see the two of you," she added, her eyes taking in their linked hands before looking up again, "But this seems like the middle of a war?" 

The Doctor sighed and began to relay all that happened since their departure, the story draining him as time wore on. When he finished Clara could feel his hand loosen in her grip as his body swayed. She grabbed his elbow with her free hand, looking up to see Oswin thinking, consumed by finding a solution to the problem of the the Matrix. 

"We could...." She began but Clara cut her off. 

"Tomorrow," she interrupted, looking over to Ashildr who had also recognised The Doctor's sudden pallor. 

Ashildr came toward her, quickening her steps as Clara shifted her grip, catching The Doctor as he slumped into her arms. 

"I'm okay," he muttered as his head lolled back. 

Clara shifted herself to better handle his weight and gestured for Ashildr to get his legs as Oswin snapped into the present, patching herself to Nina and asking for a bedroom as close to the console room as she could make it. 

Nina beeped back. 

"First door on your right," Oswin instructed as she followed them. 

With Ashildr walking backward Clara followed her to the first room on the right to find it was her bedroom, exactly as she had left it a little over a day ago, except for the layer of dust which proved that they had been traveling without her for quite a bit longer. 

Ashildr helped Clara place him on the bed with as much grace as his dead weight allowed and Clara kneeled on the bed to move him over, creating room for her to sit beside him. She leaned over his form, ensuring that his two hearts were still beating before checking his breathing, which was shallow but present. 

She moved away and The Doctor's sightless eyes fluttered open briefly. 

"Clara," he breathed. 

She turned back to him and took his hand. "I'm right here," she affirmed before turning to glance at Ashildr and then Oswin, the latter standing just inside the door. 

“It’s okay. He must still be recovering," she whispered. 

Oswin nodded, taking a step inside to touch Ashildr on the arm, a wordless gaze passing between them before she turned to Clara, "I'll be in the console room if you need me," she offered her double before turning and leaving. 

Ashildr took a step towards Clara and extended her arm to gently squeeze her shoulder. 

"Is there anything I can do for _you_?” she asked, "Tea?" she joked, knowing it solved all ails for Britons for reasons that still eluded her. 

Clara chuckled and Ashildr watched the smile on her face, brighter than she had seen it in a long while. Clara shook her head and placed her free hand over Ashildr's, turning her head to meet her eyes. 

"Thank you," she offered pointedly. 

Ashildr cocked her head, her face contorting in confusion.

“For what?” she asked, knowing from the tone she was not talking about the offer of tea. 

"For putting up with me," Clara attempted to elucidate, her face making an awkward half-smile. 

Ashildr’s cheeks tinged pink, “My pleasure Ms Oswald," she joked with a smile. 

She withdrew her hand with a light squeeze on Clara's shoulder and made her way to the door, turning back when she reached the doorway to see Clara bent over the Time Lord's form. She sighed and made her way back to the console room. 

* * * 

Clara listened again to his chest, the beats continuing strong and uninterrupted. She sat up again, realising she was stuck sitting next to him facing the head of the bed unless she could unlink her left hand from The Doctor’s. She tried to withdraw her hand slowly but he held it fast even in his half-lucid state. 

She sighed lightly, closing her eyes and forming the words as clearly as she was able, ‘I am not going anywhere but I need to move.’ 

The hand around hers loosened and she turned over to lie flat beside him before linking his left hand with her right. She shifted on to her side, propping herself up with her elbow as she took in his semi-conscious state. His eyes were closed but his brows occasionally furrowed deeply, his face contorting as if he were fighting with something in his dreams. She brought her free hand to his face, her fingers tracing across his brow trying to ease the lines of those eyebrows. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, “You’re safe.” 

The Doctor made a soft grunt in return but his face eased and Clara withdrew her fingers to lie on her side and watch him. 

At the withdrawing of her touch he shifted on to his side, bringing their faces in line and Clara smiled contentedly, tracing his face with her eyes as their breathing mingled. 

It had been a while since she slept and as she listened to the the even pattern of his breath her eyes drooped before falling closed. When she opened them again she was on her other side, The Doctor’s arm draped across her stomach and the warmth of his body against her back. 

“Good morning,” came a voice against her ear, gruff with sleep. She felt the warmth expand inside her at the recognition that he had been holding her while awake and shifted in his arms to face him. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, taking in his face again and knowing she would never tire of the unguarded affection in his expression. 

“Never better,” he replied as he felt for the edge of her face, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek. 

She could feel the double-layered meaning in his response - sarcasm about his health and complete honesty about them being here together and a smile spread across her face reflexively. 

He kissed her forehead before withdrawing, only to return with a kiss to her eyebrow, slowly peppering kisses along her eye ridge and then on her eye lids themselves as Clara shifted up on the pillow. 

She brushed her lips against his, orienting him both to her position and intent, pausing briefly to read his face before pressing forward. 

The kiss was gentle but sure as both indulged in the mere contact of their lips before mouths parted to allow equally patient exploration. 

The Doctor pulled Clara closer as Clara wound her hand under The Doctor's layers and splayed it across the bare skin of his back, relishing the feel of the contact as his skin warmed beneath her touch. 

The Doctor could feel Clara’s thoughts progressively invading at the increased contact of their skin, her need for him coupling with his own as he felt her shift them, pressing his back to the bed as she lie on his chest, straddling his hips. She broke the contact of their lips and he felt her sit up, shifting awkwardly on him as he heard the rustling of clothing before she took his hands and put them on the bare skin of her stomach. She leaned forward again to claim his lips as The Doctor’s hands mapped Clara’s now naked skin with a patient persistence. He wanted to remember this, to feel every last bit of her despite the clamour of his body and their joined minds. Clara’s hands nudged his shirt up with the same calm and sure pace and he sat up, allowing her to peel off the layers and add them to the pile he heard forming beside her bed. Clara kissed him again and it was more demanding as he felt her giving in to the desperate need she had been working to keep in check. The Doctor braced himself against his own need, rolling them to their sides and bringing his hand back to Clara’s face. 

“Let me touch you,” he uttered and it was almost a plea.   
 Clara nodded, awestruck by the reverence on his face as he traced his fingers across her shoulder and down her arm before shifting himself forward to feel her back. His breath was hot on her neck and he took in the scent of her as his palm pressed ever so lightly across her shoulder blades, his mouth on her neck as she arched away to give him better access, biting her lip against the heat pooling between her thighs. 

The Doctor’s hand traced downward across her lower back, fingers sliding beneath the band of her trousers and edging to her hip as he separated them again, pulling his fingers back and gently angling her to lay back on the bed. He meant to continue the path across her trouser band to her stomach and up to her ribs but his lips missed the feel of her skin and he moved his lips back to her body, finding her collarbone with his fingers and re-starting his path there. His lips eased along her skin, occasionally leaving kisses in their wake as they moved from her collarbone to the v of her breasts before shifting left and claiming a nipple in his mouth as Clara arched into him, a groan escaping passed clenched teeth. 

Clara reached over to The Doctor’s belt and he let her loosen it before deciding her hands were hampering his own exploration and nudging them away. 

His fingers mapped her ribs, trailing over her stomach before again finding the hem of her trousers, his lips following. He undid them slowly as Clara squirmed beneath him, trying to temper the screaming lust resonating in his mind as he cherished every feel of her. 

He eased her trousers off her hips, shifting on the bed to pull them off her feet before returning his attention to the hemline of her undies. He traced the path of her hip bone with a single finger, following her leg below the fabric as he eased it lower before meeting the top of her thigh. He did the same on the other side before hooking the fabric and pulling it down her legs. 

He flattened his palms against her legs, caressing her calves and thighs, lightly brushing her hips before stretching himself along her side, the bare skin of his chest against hers as she claimed his lips, her hands stretching across his bare chest. 

“Doctor,” she uttered as their lips parted, the word coming out strangled and breathy, “please,” she added as her hips pushed up to his, feeling the cloth that still separated them and a hardness within. 

The Doctor felt the shiver of his own aching desire at her words and hips but he was not done absorbing the precious gift of her open to his touch. Yet he felt Clara’s need keenly, his hands tracing down her stomach, enjoying the way her skin quaked and squirmed under his touch. He found her belly button, tracing the circumference before mapping lower, his fingers tangling in her curls as she arched into his touch. He applied pressure and felt her wetness as she bucked against his hand. He explored as long as Clara’s thrusts would allow before sliding two fingers into her, her wet heat surrounding them as she groaned, shifting to push them further inside. The walls he had put up to moderate the seepage from Clara’s brain collapsed with the increased contact and he could feel the exquisite agony she was experiencing in flashes of incoherence. He tried to build them again, her desire making it even harder to control his own. Moderately successful, he placed his free hand on her hip to slow her thrusts, pacing her with steady rhythm before moving his hand to her face, cupping her cheek to feel her expression. Clara took his hand and nuzzled into it, his finger tips grazing her lips before she drew one in to her mouth. His breath caught and he nearly lost the pacing of his thrusts as he felt her tongue running along the underside of his finger. 

He felt her start to clench around his fingers as her teeth grazed his other finger before biting down. He cried out in shock, impulse retrieving his hand from her mouth as Clara bolted up onto her elbows. 

"Sorry!," she exclaimed, “I didn’t mean to do it that hard,” she added as her cheeks coloured in embarrassment. 

She surveyed the The Doctor beside her hip, laughing with one hand between her thighs, and bit her lip at how much that image both turned her on and warmed her heart. 

"Come here," she offered softly and The Doctor paused before sliding his fingers out of her carefully and lying beside her. 

She grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and wiped the fingers still dripping with her, shifting on to her side before taking his other hand and kissing the finger she had bitten gently. 

“Sorry,” she uttered softer but The Doctor took his hand from hers and trailed his fingers along her hairline in response. 

“Don't be,” he finally responded, tucking her hair behind her ears as his other hand curved down her side to settle on her hip, pulling her into him closer. 

Clara felt his hardness press against her and the heat of her almost-orgasm flooded her again. She moved her hands to the waist of his trousers and he did not interfere as she released them from his hips. They shifted, The Doctor on his back as Clara pulled down the trousers and the boxers beneath, dropping them on the floor. She paused at the end of the bed for a moment, her eyes taking him in, completely naked and blind, and her heart swelled at the depth of his trust in her. She returned to his side, hand trailing up his leg as she moved, both as a tease and an indicator of where she was. When she reached the apex of his legs she took his mostly erect length in her hand and felt him shiver at the touch. She ran her hand along it slowly as she lay back down on her side facing him. 

“Clara,” he whispered and her name ran through her as if it he was unlocking all she was in the simple utterance. 

“Umm?” she responded, her eyebrows raised. 

“I don’t want to wake up from this,” he breathed out, his breath catching at her continued movement. 

She took her free hand and ran it through his hair, “I’m not going anywhere,” she replied softly before leaning over and kissing him. 

The gentle kiss quickly gave way to each trying to consume the other, desire escalating as Clara moved to straddle his hips. She broke the kiss, guiding his now fully hardened shaft between her thighs, gasping as he tentatively entered her. 

Clara could feel him in her head and linked their hands as he raised them to her waist. She leaned forward, pinning his hands beside him as she took his mouth in her own, the sound of their thoughts escalating to a cacophony as he sped up his thrusts, meeting her own bucking hips. She broke the kiss, her thoughts becoming a bright indescribable warmth even as her body flooded with pleasure. She felt him disentangle one of his hands and it met her temple, relaying the single thought of his love for her and in that moment she felt him spill in to her as she clenched around him, the whiteness of her own bliss mixing with his love, endless mirrors reflected between them as they both fell into the abyss. 

When she opened her eyes he was facing her, his hand stroking her cheek gently. 

“My Clara,” he uttered softly, his lips turning up in a smile. 

“You say that like it hasn’t always been true,” she responded as she took his free hand in her own and brushed it across her lips before kissing it. 

She looked up to see his face cloud over and released his hand to touch his cheek. 

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to remind you..” she stuttered. 

“It’s okay,” he replied but his face was still troubled as he sat up, pulling the covers with him. 

Clara sat up and shifted beside him, leaning her chin on his shoulder. 

“What was it like?” she asked cautiously, taking his hand in hers again, “Not-remembering me.”

He was silent for a moment, trying to come up with words that would convey that niggling absence that had consumed his thoughts. 

“It was like being trapped in a cage and you were aware you had put yourself there but you could not remember why or where you left the key,” he explained, his thumb brushing across her knuckles, “Even when I couldn’t remember you I knew there was something I was missing and it itched inside my brain,” he added, shaking his head against the memory. 

His words hung in silence for a moment as Clara absorbed them, overwhelmed, not for the first time, by how much he had endured, 

She saw his face shift, a memory finding it’s way to the surface. 

“I travelled with River a little but she said I was too morose and that she would find fun, whispers be damned,” he chuckled before his face grew sad. 

“What whispers?,” Clara asked softly and he could feel the movement of her face against the skin of his shoulder. 

He sighed, “I think that will be the last time River sees me alive,” he relayed before raising his eyebrows, “But she died the first time I met her so nothing is as linear as you’d expect with us,” he added as a fond but sad smile crossed his face. 

“Oh,” Clara replied awkwardly as something clicked inside her head, “Your wife,” she stated, her mind flooding with insecurities as she second guessed everything that had just happened. 

The Doctor shifted and Clara sat back, watching him as he turned to her before searching out her face with his hands. He tucked his fingers in her hair and brushed against her temples with his thumbs, the gentle caress bringing snippets of his feelings to resonate in her brain. The touch brought tears to her eyes as they only heightened her feeling of betrayal. Did he feel that way about River too? 

“River is important to me but we don’t have the most normal of relationships,” he explained, dropping his hands to her lap and taking her hands in his. “She introduced me to two other husbands of hers before she knew this was my new face,” he side-tracked, an eyebrow crooking upward.

Clara refused to let herself be dissuaded. She pulled away from him and turned, swinging her legs off the bed.

“But you’re married to her,” she pointed out, facing away from him. 

He faced her back sightlessly, “Technically yes,” he enunciated simply before elucidating, “It was to save all of time, but yes, I’m married. Is that any different from you and Danny?” he asked, forcing his voice to stay even. 

“I didn’t marry him,” she bit back angrily, standing to face him.

“You did in some timeline,” he pointed out, “Rupert Pink? Orson Pink? I went back trying to remember you and connected the dots,” The Doctor reminded her, “Rupert was Danny wasn’t he?”

Clara nodded.

“And if he hadn’t died…” The Doctor let the phrase linger between them as he felt her emotional walls form between them for the first time since he had been able to remember again. 

“Clara,” he entreated, trying to moderate the anger coming off her in waves, “I don’t blame you for that, but you can’t hold what you feel to some linear moral code,” he explained, his voice rising as he gesticulated widely. 

“Stupid pudding brain?” Clara snapped, “Is that what you’re saying because that is what it sounds like.”

She picked her clothes up from the floor and quickly pulled them on before exiting, slamming the door Oswin had created behind her and leaving The Doctor sitting on the bed with his mouth ajar. 

He buried his face in his hands and smiled even as tears burned behind his eyes, because even this was better than not remembering her. 

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

Clara picked new clothes from the wardrobe room and showered in the communal bathroom before heading to the library, surprised to find Oswin tucked between two shelves.

Oswin started as Clara approached.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Clara offered.

“Side effect of no longer being connected to Nina’s sensors - I don’t always remember to think about my surroundings,” she replied with a rueful grin.

Clara looked Oswin over, still thrown off by how much she looked exactly like her.

“Yea, it’s weird for me too,” Oswin offered, reading the expression on her face and the sadness lurking beneath it. “How’s The Doctor?” she offered hoping the sadness was not indicative of his current state.

Clara bit her lip, “He’s okay… we’re just…” she threw up her arms in confusion before sitting beside her echo, “It’s complicated.”

“Nothing worth having is simple,” Oswin replied easily, “Nina is a sentient space ship who sometimes can’t remember who I am and accidentally tried to kill me once,” Oswin offered lightly, trying to crack a smile but there was fear still tangible in the memory. She glanced over at Clara, the momentary fear gone, ”It doesn't stop me wanting to spend time with her and enjoying it when I do."

Clara nodded, looking down at her lap unable to shake the wrongness she felt and realising part of it was her own guilt over Danny.

"We would’ve both lived our lives with someone else…” she murmured, a lump forming in her throat as the memories loomed large. She thought she loved Danny, believed it with every fibre of her being, and now it seemed like smoke.

"You've lived hundreds of lives with hundreds of other people, sacrificing yourself for a man you never knew but always loved. Give yourself a chance at the one time you actually get to be with him," Oswin pointed out.

Clara nodded, knowing Oswin was right and she was being hypocritical but the possibility that someone else was more important to him had scared her. She knew realistically that he had lived hundreds of years and of course there would have been someone else, in another life, and suddenly she was hit with the confusing morality of time travellers. He would always be both hers and not hers, just as River and Danny would always be both dead and alive.

She tried to focus on what she knew, how much he had suffered to get back to her. She had no reason to question his feelings and yet that logic did not completely diffuse the fear she felt.

She raised her eyes to meet those of her echo as a memory flickered to life.

"The Doctor's Tardis…" Clara began.

"Idris," Oswin interrupted.

"Sorry, Idris,” Clara corrected before continuing, “Idris once told me that out of all the images in her database my face was the one I most esteem," she relayed with a smile, "this was before we got on and I called her a cow but it seems funny now as I listen to sage advice from someone with my face," she commented. "Thank you," she added sincerely meeting deep brown eyes both identical and drastically different than her own.

Oswin’s face contorted, her eyes and nose scrunched as her pupils shifted to their upper right.

“I think I had that dream once,” she stated, her eyes wide as they met Clara’s.

“Yep, this definitely takes some getting used to,” Clara commented with a smile as she stood and offered her hand to Oswin who took it, the electrons in her skin softly buzzing against Clara’s as she helped her up.

* * *

Ashildr was walking by Clara’s room to her own when she heard a clatter of falling objects succeeded by The Doctor’s muffled cursing and a thump. She paused, waiting for Clara’s voice but heard only silence.

She knocked, “Are you okay?” she called within.

“Yes, yes fine!,” The Doctor exclaimed from within in a tone that did not sound horribly sincere.

“Where is Clara?” she asked through the door.

“She’s somewhere,” he answered vaguely, a catch in his voice as Ashildr heard another progression of falling objects and another more muffled curse from The Doctor.

“I’m coming in,” she warned, opening the door slowly.

As she entered she took in the various fallen objects, all of which she remembered close to the edge of their respective surfaces, and The Doctor wet and seated on the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist as he held his toe.

“Stupid furniture needs to tell me where it is,” he uttered and the frustration was evident in his voice as he let go of his foot.

Ashildr saw a streak of soap at his hairline by his ear.

“You still have soap in your hair,” Ashildr pointed out.

The Doctor put his face in his hands, feeling the soap at the edge of his left hand before sitting up straight again.

“Would you mind getting me a wet washcloth?” he asked resignedly.

“Sure,” she replied as she bustled into the bathroom, noting the two small piles of clothes which still contained Clara’s socks and bra.

She brought the cloth out and crouched down in front of him. She remembered his touch telepathy and moved her left hand to his right so he would know what to expect, before raising the cloth to his hairline and wiping away the offending soap.

“Thank you,” he offered.

Ashildr released his hand and stood up. “You’re welcome,” she replied as she went back to the bathroom to put away the cloth. “Now let me get you some new clothes,” she added, trying not to think of what the ones on the floor had undergone.

The Doctor nodded and Ashildr left, finding her way to the wardrobe and picking out a pair of boxers she thought might fit, a long pair of plain black trousers, a black blazer and a white T-Shirt that read ‘Viva Las Vegas’ which had been created for the Diner shop when they had landed on the planet of historical monuments. She brought them back to The Doctor and placed them in a pile beside him before taking a few steps

“Do you want me to stay in case you need help?” Ashildr offered, thoughts of him and Clara running through her mind as she blushed before clarifying, “I mean I’ll turn around but be here in case.”

“I’ll be okay,” he replied, “But thank you,” he added almost begrudgingly.

Ashildr nodded, remembering belatedly that it would have no meaning to him.

“If you change your mind just tell Idris to get me,” she responded as evenly as she could, her happiness for him and Clara mixing with her jealousy and the knowledge that together they were dangerous.

“You know I won’t,” The Doctor replied with a half-smile.

Ashildr’s face curved into a smile at his response in spite of herself.

“Yes I do,” she replied with an honest affection she had been trying to bury since he had wiped his mind, still feeling the guilt of the decision as if it had been her own.

She turned and exited the room, shutting the door behind her and standing in the hallway for a moment to listen. She heard the mattress shift and the rustling of fabric but no further cursing. She listened for a moment more before stepping away from the door and continuing down the hall, bypassing her door and heading to one of the storage areas.

* * *

The Doctor dressed himself with some difficulty but eventually emerged from the bedroom, his hand pressed against the corridor of the Tardis as he made his way to the console room.

“Oh good, you’re up. Feeling better?” came the cheerful greeting and The Doctor identified Oswin’s timber, both because she had always spoken a tiny bit higher pitched than Clara but also because of the slight electronic resonance now present in her speech.

“Yep. Me? Fine,” he brushed off as he made his way to the console. “Any news on Idris?” he asked as he let his fingers wander across the controls, different to his own but not radically and he realised Clara had a hand in personalising them.

“Not yet but Nina is still searching,” Oswin replied from the opposite side of the console, “We’re hopeful,” she added smiling brightly before her eyes shifted back to the console, taking a few steps to the right and changing the readout.

The Doctor’s hands wandered the keys for a moment longer as he allowed his thoughts to wander before facing Oswin’s last location.

“We might be able to fix the time web if we could interrupt the temporal buffers," he postulated, “make it reset itself.”

Oswin nodded.

“Nina and I thought I might be able to ‘encourage’ it to do just that,” she suggested with an emphasis on encourage as The Doctor shifted himself slightly to face her current location.

Oswin was still not sure she would be able to hack into what was essentially a far older and more complicated version of a Tardis but she and Nina had reviewed hundreds of approaches in detail after discarding thousands of others and this seemed the most likely to have a positive outcome.

The Doctor knitted his eyebrows, “You?” he asked, his eyes wide as he realised how dangerous melding with the machine could prove.

“Unless you have another human in electronic form who should really be dead?” Oswin joked, a thread of steel in her voice at the knowledge that her particular make up was the lynch pin in confusing the machine long enough to access it.

The Doctor sighed, he had known her knowledge of Tardis functions would be helpful but he had not expected her interaction to be quite so personal - yet he could fault the elegant logic of it.

“It might work,” he begrudgingly acknowledged, “But you'd need to..."

“…get into the cloisters and past the wraiths to access the main flux chamber of the Matrix itself," Oswin interrupted matter-of-factly, “I’ve done my research,” she added teasingly, enjoying the look of confusion on his face before it changed to acceptance and he nodded.

Clara entered the console room silently and leaned against the inner doorway, arms crossed as she met Oswin’s eyes in acknowledgement before they shifted to The Doctor and a fond smile crossed her face.

“How are you going to prevent data corruption when you get close?” The Doctor asked seriously.

“Nina has backed me up as much as she can, otherwise I just have to rely on the structural integrity of my pathways,” Oswin replied, “but between you and Nina I don’t doubt the workmanship,” she added teasingly.

“It’s still dangerous Oswin,” he replied sombrely.

Clara stepped into the console room and slid her hand into The Doctor's, giving it a gentle squeeze before speaking, both so he knew she was there but also so he could read the apology she was running through her mind.

“That is why I’m going with her,” she announced, “I’ve been monitoring Oswin’s neural pathways since she joined us and Nina just updated me on the modifications you made for her integration with the hardlight hologram. She’ll be tracking us with Ashildr who will pull us out if there is any serious danger.”

The Doctor’s expression went inscrutable for a moment as he held Clara’s hand tightly.

“How does it feel to not be the only clever one?,” Clara teased before moving her gaze to Oswin and then back to The Doctor.

“It’s been a long time since I was the only clever one,” he answered sincerely, giving Clara’s hand a squeeze before releasing it as he moved to the console, his face shifting with a renewed energy.

“Right!” he exclaimed rubbing his hands together, “All I need to do is to negotiate a peace treaty,” he announced.

“You going to be okay?” Clara asked, “I mean blind and all,” she clarified.

“Me? Yes. Of course,” he replied.

“Which is Doctor for ‘I don’t know but I’m going to enjoy finding out,’” Ashildr announced as she entered the console room carrying what looked like a belt or back brace.

Clara pressed her lips together to try not to laugh at Ashildr’s accurate assessment.

“I augmented this broken personal shield to vibrate lightly on your body when it’s about to come in contact with something. You won’t be able to see expressions but at least you won’t bump in to anything,” Ashildr explained, “And you can wear it under your clothes so you don’t give the impression you’re worried about assassination,” she added as she took The Doctor’s hand and placed it on the belt.

“The furniture will tell me where it is,” he replied with a wry smile, loath to use it but touched by her thoughtfulness. He took the object begrudgingly and wrapped it around his waist loosely before untucking his shirt and sliding it beneath the fabric.

“That’s the idea,” Ashildr replied as he tightened the belt around his chest and tucked his shirt back in.

“Right. I’ll be going then,” The Doctor stated emphatically. “ Be careful,” he cautioned before turning and heading to the Tardis door, the belt very usefully indicating when he was out of range of the console.

Clara followed him to the door as the others fell into discussion.

The Doctor turned as the belt sensed her presence. As she approached she touched his arm before sliding her hand down to his as she stood in front of him, "Go be a Doctor," she offered, raising herself on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek.

His cheeks coloured of their own accord although his expression was otherwise neutral, "just you stop me," he responded with a smile as he released her hand and exited the console room.

Clara watched the door shut behind him before turning back to the women behind her.

"Slight change of plans," Oswin relayed when Clara was in earshot.

"I may know where Idris is," Ashildr relayed.

* * *

Ashildr stood at the console, watching the door shut behind her friends and tracking their movements to ensure they were out of range before typing in the coordinates she hoped would bring her to Idris.

Ashildr knew Missy had not been on Gallifrey already and assumed they had not picked her up on purpose so it made sense that she had been the last place they had travelled - which Clara identified as Irani Four. And she knew Missy well enough from her observations of The Doctor to know that if she was there for a reason she had probably returned. Hospitals on Irani Four also held the early programmable Chula Nanogenes before a rogue batch of the newer self-guided ones destroyed the planet and if Ashildr could get some of those they could help restore The Doctor’s sight.

Ashildr materialised in a hospital storage container, thanking Nina for the spot-on placement. She set Nina to scan for Idris before disembarking and checking the shelves around her. It was the correct location but all the containers that would have held the programable nanogenes were empty.

There was a knock on the outside of the door and Ashildr looked over at it as fear and excitement mixed in her stomach. She put down the empty tube in her hand and went over to the door, using the emergency panel on the inside to unlock it before pulling it sideways.

She recognised Missy as soon as she saw her, elbow resting on the edge of the doorway as she supported her head, casually looking at the nails of her other hand.

She waited a moment after the door opened to turn to Ashildr, feigning surprise.

“Why Lady Me, how lovely to finally meet you my pet,” she exclaimed as she pushed past her into the small room and spun, crooking her finger under Ashilr’s chin for a moment before releasing it, “Or should I say ‘The Doctor’s pet’ - I see you’re running his errands now.”

“What are you doing here Missy?” Ashildr asked as Missy sashayed past her, keeping her tone even, almost bored.

“Oh nothing really, just tracking The Doctor down through all of spacetime and getting my hands on any little piece of equipment that could repair those sightless eyes of his,” She replied turning to face Ashildr and batting her eyelashes as she pulled a small tube from a pocket beneath the folds of her dress.

“You looking for this?” She asked with a knowing smile.

“Surely you have better things to do than act as a hackneyed villain intent on tormenting The Doctor through all of time,” Ashildr pointed out.

Missy put the back of her empty hand against her forehead with an intentionally over the top theatricality, “Hackneyed? You wound me,” she uttered grandly before dropping her hand and meeting Ashildr’s eyes with a predatory gaze so intent it took a force of will for Ashildr to return the stare.

“Seriously? Watching the pain on his face, the choice, the indecision. And then there is Clara!,” she continued, her eyes widening as she broke their gaze and smiled expansively, “He’s betrayed himself at every turn to keep her safe and it is So. Much. Fun. to Watch,” she she replied, emphasising her last words as she scrunched her nose up and bounced in place to them, tapping Ashildr on the nose. “That of course was down to me too, she was my perfect present to him,” she continued, smiling fondly.

“So have you just been waiting here?” Ashildr asked, ignoring the madwoman’s ramblings.

“Of course not, his Tardis can track yours so I didn’t even have to do any real work,” She revealed before pouting, “So disappointing!” she exclaimed.

Ashildr frowned in spite of herself, wondering why Nina hadn’t been able to sense Idris.

“Oh don’t you worry your little head about it,” Missy responded, reading Ashildr’s thoughts in her expression and patting her once on the head, “I hid myself from your Tardis the moment I entered the The Doctor’s Blue Box, or should I say mine?,” she amended with a grin, “I was there where Clara summoned you - I figured it out.”

Ashildr narrowed her eyes, “Well if you’re here to get the nanogenes I bet you have a couple batches in the Tardis for safe keeping,” she prodded.

“Or I might have thrown them all in to the sea - you never do know,” she replied, circling Ashildr tightly in the small space.

Ashildr shook her head, “No, I’ve seen enough of you to know that you like something to hold over him, even if it isn’t one that requires an ethical dilemma.”

“Well then, all you need to do is find where I landed the Tardis,” Missy mocked, leaving her mouth paused open in an O before placing herself in front of the door and leaning her arm across it, “If only I wasn’t in the way.”

Ashildr shrugged, taking a few backward steps towards Nina, “Well then I guess I’ll be off,” she replied nonchalantly.

Missy’s mouth widened in surprise as Ashildr turned and entered the Tardis. When she was over the threshold Ashildr turned back to face Missy.

“What you don’t know is that in addition to tracking, our Tardises can be synchronised to take off and land together,” Ashildr explained, her lips curling into a thin smile as she saw the confusion on Missy’s face.

“Nina,” she signalled, looking up at the ceiling of the ship as she heard the time rotor respond. She turned to Missy and waved, smiling as she watched her turn and run out of the storage container.

For a moment she felt sorry for Missy, stuck on a planet soon to be ravaged by rogue nanogenes, but Missy, like herself, was resourceful and Ashildr knew she would find some way to escape.

*  *  *  


	12. Chapter 12

Clara and Oswin stepped out of the Diner to be greeted by two soldiers, a scruffy young man who introduced himself as Tylan of the Gallifreyian Front and an older woman from the Time Lords who introduced herself as Lieutenant Deirae. The Doctor's first negotiation had been to get dual representation to escort them to the Cloisters.

Tylan looked obtrusively from one to the other while Lieutenant Deirae kept her expression blank.

Clara glanced at Oswin for a moment before registering the confusion.

“This is Oswin,” she introduced, “We’re… twins from different moments in time,” she tried to simplify.

Lieutenant Deirae raised an eyebrow.

“I heard you went to the moment of The Doctor’s death and jumped into his timeline, fracturing yourself in time,” she countered.

“Well yea, if you want to be specific about it,” Clara replied dismissively, “Can we go now?” she asked pointedly.

Lieutenant Deirae nodded and turned toward the town as the others followed.

As they weaved their way through the rubble, ever shifting in the frequent low-level quakes, Tylan tried to goad Lieutenant Deirae about her fitness and political leanings. Despite numerous attempts the Lieutenant maintained her composure, responding with unimpressed monosyllabic answers. Clara and Oswin followed silently a few steps behind them, taking in the surrounding destruction and trying not to think of what would happen if they were not able to stop the quakes. When they arrived at the edge of the city Clara looked up at what used to be a shell protecting the city but it had shattered, pieces of it disintegrated at her feet while some hung precariously overhead, the buildings inside mostly destroyed.

“Did hiding from the real air of the world still seem like a great idea when the shell was falling on you?” Tylan gibed gesturing to what was left of the shell encircling the city.

Lieutenant Deirae stopped in her tracks as her head whipped around to face Tylan.

“Whole families died when parts of the shell came down,” Lieutenant Deirae snapped with an uncharacteristic fervour, “including most of mine, so stop being a self-righteous ass and keep moving,” she commanded before turning away from him and taking a few angry steps towards the city.

Tylan dropped the pompous smirk from his face but said nothing, avoiding Clara and Oswin’s eyes as he followed Lieutenant Deirae into the city.

Clara and Oswin followed beneath the shell and down a mostly cleared path to what had once been the High Council building. They entered the building by an old service hatch before making their way to a still functioning elevator which shuttered momentarily as they began their decent before evening out.

When they arrived in the Cloisters Lieutenant Deirae prodded Oswin with her gun, her eyes widening at the resonance that ran up her gun to her fingers. Oswin met her eyes and smiled as she and Clara exited willingly, leaving Deirae and Tylan hovering just outside the elevator as Tylan looked around him, trying not to betray the awe and fear this place was instilling in him.

“How much of this place do you remember?” Oswin asked, more for conversation than anything else as they fell out of earshot of their associates.

“Some, but I was following The Doctor and not looking around too much,” Clara replied as she pulled Oswin out of reach of a Weeping Angel.

“They send you back in time and feed off your future,” Clara explained, “That said you didn’t have much future left and I’m dead so I’m not sure what would happen,” she added as she and Oswin exchanged the same smile - the cocky one that meant they were considering something reckless.

Clara pulled her gaze away first, shaking her head as she pushed deeper into The Cloisters, Oswin a step behind her.

Oswin’s eyes began tracking a Cloister Wraith as it’s path brought it within a few feet. Clara caught her gaze and followed it, her breath stilling as it came closer only to pass them unnoticed.

“Odd guard dogs,” Oswin noted.

“Definitely creepy though,” Clara added and Oswin nodded in agreement as they continued on their path.

The Cloister Wraiths passed more frequently as they moved further inside but seemed distracted and had not yet acknowledged the visitors as Clara and Oswin passed under an arch and into an inner circle of the Cloisters.

They pushed forward, pausing more frequently to let a wraith pass before advancing. They had progressed another hundred feet when Clara spotted a further concentric circle and increased her steps, weaving to the left to avoid a wraith coming at speed. She turned back to Oswin, meeting her eye five paces away to find her in the centre of a swarm of wraiths.

“They keep telling me I’m a Dalek,” Oswin yelled between the bodies of the wraiths as fear gripped Clara’s heart.

“You have to go to the Matrix,” Oswin instructed as the swarm cut off Clara’s visual. One of the swarm followed Oswin’s eyeline and turned toward Clara, erasing her momentary indecision as she ran further into the Cloisters, knowing it was now the only way to save them both.

The moment she stepped into the next circle her body froze in place. She felt a sharp pain behind her eyes as a light blinded her and a force invaded her mind.

“You are impossible,” It indicated, in a voice that sounded like hundreds of voices at the same time, the clamour of the same words emitted microseconds from each other to form one voice, both gruff and ethereal.

Clara ignored the comment. “You have a prisoner, Oswin Oswald. She’s not a Dalek, not anymore, she’s human,” she explained, trying to recall images of Oswin.

“Oswin Oswald does not exist. You do not exist. You must both be erased from time,” The Matrix responded, the decisiveness clear despite the odd rustling tenor.

Clara fought back wordlessly, forcing as many of her memories as she could to the surface: visiting her mother’s grave, Christmas with Dad and Linda, the Maitlands. She had been trying to avoid memories of The Doctor as they might prove that she should not _still_ exist but those thoughts came to the surface too, a flood of every adventure as if they were being extracted from her skull faster than she could think of them.

The flash of images increased the throb in her skull and she heard her own voice crying out in pain as the images paused on a picture she had been shown in the National Portrait Gallery, the slice of the Time War. The machine that had taken over her thoughts flicked forward to her memory of being in the Tardis with the younger Doctor as they froze Gallifrey and folded it into a pocket universe.

The light withdrew and Clara collapsed on her side as the cold floor came up to meet her. She slowly pushed herself up on her hands.

“You know what that means,” she prompted, “You’ve been frozen out of time,” she continued as she gingerly got herself on her feet, her head still throbbing in addition to a now aching elbow.

Without warning a bright light flashed as a rumble resounded deep in the core of the planet. The light receded as quickly as it came and Clara felt the planet still beneath her feet as the rumbling silenced, and yet the stillness was almost eerie, as if there had always been the soft vibration of a great machine beneath the crust. Clara took a couple of tentative steps, the pain in her head making it hard to focus as she identified the archway through which she had entered. She focused on Oswin and forced her brain to cooperate as she made herself walk faster.

She found Oswin chained to a wall with the bodies of the wraiths around her, a look on her face Clara knew all too well - she had been forced to remember what the Daleks had done.

“They just collapsed,” Oswin stated, taking deep ineffectual breaths as she tried to focus on Clara and what was real.

Clara nodded, the action making her wince as she approached Oswin and untangled her from the mass of chain incapacitating her extremities before holding out her hand.

“You’re safe now,” she said as Oswin took her hand, stepping over the bodies and following Clara out of the Cloisters wordlessly.

* * *

The Doctor felt the quake beneath his feet and stood instantly, wanting to run to the Cloisters and make sure Clara was okay but knowing he would need help if he were ever to find it or her in his current state.

Those seated around the table had fallen silent as the loud rumble fell to a silence The Doctor could _feel_ beneath his feet - a stillness he had never experienced on Gallifrey.

“The Matrix,” The General uttered below her breath as the silence was subsumed in confused muttering around them.

The Doctor nodded, his mouth slack as his mind clamoured ‘Clara!’.

The General pulled out her communicator and signalled the Lieutenant.

"Yes ma’am?" Came the almost immediate response.

"Are my friends okay?" The Doctor asked pointedly before The General could respond.

"What is your status?" The General asked, "Are the others okay?" she added begrudgingly.

“I see them now. We’re all fine. Not sure what happened," came the Lieutenant’s hesitant reply.

The Doctor heard Clara's voice in the background before some interference on the line.

"I fed it my memories…" came Clara's voice clearer, "... of being on the Tardis and freezing the planet, it seems to have shut down," she informed them.

“What about the prisoners,” The General asked, concern written on her face.

“We haven’t seen any free ones yet but will have a look,” Clara replied before the crinkling returned to the line and the Lieutenant’s voice was heard.

“I’ll stop them ma’am,” the Lieutenant replied before the line was closed.

“Good luck,” The Doctor snickered. “I don’t suppose you have a faster way of making it to the Cloisters?”

“No,” The General replied, “our aircraft was incapacitated in the initial battle,” she clarified with a hint of recrimination in her voice.

“We better move then,” he replied before turning in the direction Lucian had last inhabited. “You too Lucian,” he added.

“What about reinforcements - if the prisoners are out..” The General suggested.

“If the prisoners are out they will destroy everyone they can find so in the name of the survival of the race let’s hope we can secure them without a firefight,” The Doctor replied evenly, moving in what he hoped was the direction of the city.

* * *

“Have you met these creatures before?” Oswin asked as she and Tylan kept their eyes on the weeping angel in front of her while Clara assessed the chains. Lieutenant Deirae stood in sight, she had been unable to stop them from going into the cloisters and while Tylan had offered to accompany them this time, his previous cowardice not sitting well with him, she had been unwilling to follow.

“Not all,” Clara replied, standing up and stepping backwards, keeping her eyes on the statue until she was standing beside Oswin. She turned to her friend pointedly. “It should be safe to look away now, the chains seem undamaged,” she affirmed. “Look away for a moment,” she instructed Tylan. He turned away as Oswin turned to Clara for the briefest of moments before the women turned back to look at the Weeping Angel again - it had moved but remained in the chains.

“I can feel something in the chains,” Clara commented, “…like a slight buzzing. I think The Matrix is still alive. Maybe it’s gone into hibernation mode to scan itself?” Clara offered as they moved out of sight of The Lieutenant and towards a tri-pedal tank of purple goo, Tylan looking around him before following cautiously.

“This one I have never seen,” Clara stated before closing the distance to it. As she moved closer the goo bubbled in the tank and seeped out a crack in the top. She halted and the bubbling stopped but when she moved forward the goo seeped out further as it began to drip over the edge of the tank.

Oswin moved forward and put her hand on Clara’s arm.

“Let me,” she offered.

Clara nodded and stepped back as her doppelganger stepped forward with none of the resulting effects.

“They’re okay,” Oswin affirmed when she had tested the bindings, “and you’re right, there is definitely energy still running through them.”

Clara nodded, Oswin falling into step beside her as they moved to the next room, Tylan following slowly after them while looking around and trying to hide his expression of awe.

“So how is Nina?” Clara asked, noting the way Oswin’s mouth creased into a smile at the mention of her name.

Oswin nodded, her face becoming serious as she responded.

“Hard sometimes,” she answered honestly, “She still doesn’t completely forgive herself for nearly destroying me but we’re working on it,” she affirmed, smiling tentatively.

Clara smiled in response, “You guys are a regular thesis on functional post-humanism,” she quipped as she glanced over at her friend, realising belatedly that she might not appreciate the reminder.

“I suppose we are,” Oswin replied, laughing at the idea. “I never think of us as anything new because it feels like you’d expect,” Oswin commented, “Although I suppose the fact we first met by inhabiting the same space and being able to read each other’s thoughts was a bit unusual,” she joked with a smile.

Clara nodded, “I’m glad it’s working out,” she replied before staring off into the distance as a darkness passed over her face.

“I worry about Ashildr,” Clara uttered, looking down to avoid Oswin’s gaze.

Oswin stopped, touching Clara’s arm and making the other woman face her.

“I know she’s used to talking care of herself but she’s always been lonely. I wasn’t much help with that I fear,” Clara admitted.

“She idolises you you know,” Oswin pointed out.

Clara nodded, shifting away from Oswin’s eyes.

“I thought it was just that I got to travel with The Doctor but I think she cares about me more than I’m able to reciprocate,” Clara replied before raising her eyes to meet the caring stare of similar deep browns.

“I’d say that was a fair assessment,” Oswin replied with a smirk, “But she has to find her own way and she will,” she added with a comforting smile as she took Clara’s hand for a brief moment and squeezed before releasing it again.

Clara nodded before looking around them to check for Tylan. He wasn’t in sight and anxiety rose within her as she took a few steps retracing their route. She was about to call out for him when he turned the corner, apologising for falling behind as they fell into step, continuing further into the cloisters.

* * *

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

The Doctor sat on the edge of the bed he had been sharing with Clara and leaned over to unlace his boots, threading his fingers through the laces as the exhaustion seeped into his bones.

They had been bunked in an, admittedly nice, tent since Ashildr had taken off with Nina but he was used to having the endless buffer-zone of the Tardis between him and most other beings and the lack of space around him was only adding to the irritation caused by his two currently intractable predicaments. On one hand he was trying to form an agreement between two sides who refused to give even the smallest compromise and on the other there was The Matrix which refused almost all attempts at interrogation.

He pulled his feet out of his boots and fell back on to the bed as Clara came around the corner, the excitement on her face muting as she took in his expression.

"Still no luck eh?" She confirmed, her voice falling.

She came over to sit beside him on the bed, her hand resting on his lower thigh. It was still so new, not feeling the least bit of resistance in him when they touched, and she smiled to herself at how easy it had become when they both stopped fighting.

The Doctor shook his head in response without raising it from the bed.

“Oswin and I have combed through the archives but Rassilon didn't seem to believe in documenting how The Matrix worked,” He explained.

He felt the bed shift as Clara lay beside him. He turned his head to where he assumed hers was positioned and continued, “It seems to be scanning itself but I can’t be sure and both sides want to know if it’s ever going to work again before agreeing to anything. Everyone is getting irritable and I’m running out of ideas Clara…” he trailed off, facing the ceiling again and exhaling heavily before sitting up.

Clara shifted again and when she spoke her voice was not overly far from his ear.

“I have something that may take your mind off it for a while,” Clara stated, the excitement returning to her voice.

“Clara unless you’re going to tell me you found a loophole in my promise to stay here until this was done I’m not sure what would help,” The Doctor replied, his voice more drained than Clara had ever heard it.

“I just came from Nina. Ashildr’s back with her, Idris and nanogenes,” Clara informed him as she watched his eyebrows slowly rise as confused astonishment gave way to hysterical glee.

The Doctor took her arm, following it to her hand as she helped him off the bed.

“Your boots?” Clara asked as The Doctor stood up from the bed barefoot.

“Who needs boots?,” he exclaimed as a smile broke over his face.

* * *

They made their way quickly across the field to where Ashildr had parked the Tardises, The Doctor planting his palms against Idris’s door and kissing it before entering. He counted his steps as he reached out for the console, running his hands over her controls as the Tardis beeped happily.

“It’s nice to see you too. So very nice,” The Doctor replied, chuckling as the Tardis followed with a few further beeps.

Clara watched from the doorway, a smile on her face as she pet the edge of the doorway affectionately before entering.

Ashildr came up behind her, falling into step as Clara stopped, turning to her friend.

“Thank you,” she stated sincerely, her smile beaming as her eyes traveled back to The Doctor, his ear pressed to the console intently.

“Let’s just hope I was right about the nanogenes,” Ashildr deflected.

“You were, Idris knows where they are,” The Doctor cut in, still standing beside the console before dropping to his knees and feeling the floor before shifting left.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to intrude in to conversations that don’t include you?” Ashildr teased as she walked over to him, crouching down as she watched him pry the panel open and rummage beneath.

The Doctor pulled out a plastic container small and cylindrical and held it aloft.

“That is a toothbrush,” Ashildr pointed out as The Doctor’s fingers found the latch that confirmed Ashildr’s observation.

“So it is,” he agreed as he dropped it back, rummaging a bit further before finding something a similar size and shape with a contact unit on the bottom.

“There it is,” Ashildr voiced as The Doctor pushed himself to standing.

Clara watched as The Doctor connected the cylinder into a port on the console before flicking a few switches. The Tardis scanned him and identified the damaged area on the optic nerve while Clara moved behind The Doctor and Ashildr to watch the screen as it transferred the data to the cylinder.

“So this is going to repair your eyes?” Clara commented hopefully as she came up beside him.

The Doctor turned to her with a mixture of hope and fear, “Yes, it should,” he affirmed.

Clara read his face, “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked pointedly.

The Doctor reached out and found her hands, “I’ve programmed it to be as minimally invasive as possible but there is a slight chance if the neural block is near the optic nerve that it will try to fix that too,” he explained.

Clara swallowed as the thought of loosing him again clenched her chest in a vice grip.

“But it’s a slight chance right? We’ve done better with worse,” Clara replied, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

The console dinged.

“Exactly,” he replied forcing a smile on his face as he released one of her hands and twisted his body to feel for the small bottle where the cylinder had once been.

“If you need me I’ll be with Nina,” Ashildr commented, excusing herself.

“Ashildr,” The Doctor called as she turned to leave.

Ashildr turned.

“What ever happens thank you for this,” he held the dropper bottle aloft, “And for returning Idris to me,” he added sincerely.

“You’re welcome,” she acknowledged with a nod before turning again and withdrawing.

Once Ashildr had departed The Doctor turned to Clara, “I should probably be lying down for this,” he indicated.

Clara nodded pointlessly and took his hand, leading him down the stairs and to his room, which Idris had moved closer. She led him to the bed before releasing his hand as he gave her the drops and leaned back, making himself comfortable.

“I need two drops in each eye,” he instructed once he stopped shifting.

Clara nodded, sitting beside him and squeezing his hand in reply before unscrewing the top to the bottle with shaking hands.

She took a deep but superfluous steadying breath before leaning above The Doctor’s form and carefully placing two drops in each eye. The Doctor closed his eyes and Clara sealed the bottle, placing it on the table by the bedside before taking The Doctor’s hand in both of hers. She watched the muscles in his face shift in discomfort.

“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.

“They seal off the pain receptors so it doesn’t _hurt_ but is not the most pleasant experience,” The Doctor admitted, his eyes still closed as the nanogenes worked on his optic pathways.

They sat for a few moments in silence as Clara traced the contours of his face with her eyes and The Doctor held on to the memory of hers - both hoping this would not tear them apart again.

“How long is it going to take?” Clara asked, stifling an unexpected yawn.

“It’ll be a while,” he replied, taking his hand from hers and twisting it to pat the pillow beside him.

She stretched herself out beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as she watched him intently, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stare so blatantly once he could see again.

“I’d prefer you didn’t stare so blatantly now, your thoughts are loud,” The Doctor teased with an arched eyebrow as he wrapped his pinned arm around her.

“And how do you suggest I stop?” Clara replied giggling as she leaned over and kissed him on the nose.

The Doctor held his other hand up in front of him, “What did I say about nose kissing?” he mock-reprimanded.

“Sorry - I didn’t mean to give you flashbacks to Missy,” she teased, “I do get the allure now though,” she added with a laugh, “your nose is very kissable”.

“You stay away from my nose,” The Doctor half-jokingly asserted.

Clara raised her eyebrows.

“That might be a bit difficult,” she pointed out as she moved her face over his, hovering over his lips with her own, “it’s connected to the rest of your face,” she breathed out, ensuring no other part of their bodies touched and leaning in close enough to his lips that she could feel the tingle of their gravity before she bit her own lip and withdrew.

She felt the pillow connect with the side of her head as she was thrown off balance and landed beside him, both of them laughing.

“You’re lucky I’m not supposed to move extensively,” The Doctor assured her after the laughing died down.

“Sure old man,” she jovially mocked as she quickly shifted on the bed and kissed him lightly on the nose, giggling as she returned to her former position curled beside him.

He smiled in her direction in spite of himself, assuming from the darkness she was broadcasting from her optic pathways that she had her eyes closed tightly.

He hovered his hand above her face and she felt its proximity, opening her eyes to bring it to her cheek. He stroked her hairline with his fingertips in slow easy motions, using the touch to distract him from the discomfort of the nanogenes. Clara's mind eventually quieted and he moved his hand from her face, focusing on the the slow steady breath her body still mimicked.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

Clara felt a hand on her temple and awoke with a start before recognising the surroundings and The Doctor' s long body as her eyes adjusted. 

As details came into focus she noticed that The Doctor was lying on his side, meeting her eyes with an accuracy that was uncanny. The memory of the nanogenes fell into her head like the final puzzle piece and her eyebrow raised as the corners of her lips lifted in a hopeful smile. 

He mirrored her smile as both grew wider in response. 

“Oh Clara,” he uttered, her name sticking in his throat as he continued to stroke her face with his fingers, down her cheek to her jaw as she felt him hit wetness on her cheek that could only be drool, “Your cheek is wet,” he observed. 

Clara blushed, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, “How attractive,” she deadpanned. 

“Well it is slightly more attractive than that obnoxious noise you make when you sleep,” he pointed out, still smiling. 

“I do not snore!,” Clara protested, the objection in her voice not making it to her smiling eyes as she continued to stare into The Doctor’s gaze.

“If you say so boss,” he replied, his eyes dancing.

They were silent for a moment as a darkness passed over Clara’s eyes. The Doctor’s face fell as she hesitated before finally speaking, “Are the memories still there? Are you going to forget me the moment I’m somewhere else?” she asked. 

The Doctor shook his head and closed his eyes for effect, “It’s all there Clara,” he confirmed. 

“And the psychic link?” she asked as she linked his hand in hers. 

“Not as loud but I can still feel you yes,” he replied. 

A smile spread across her face again and The Doctor felt the warmth of it flooding him, as if she was focusing on her feelings for him. 

“Good,” she affirmed with a smile, falling into his eyes as they stared at each other once again.

The Doctor felt a sudden sadness in her, her eyes shifting from his as her expression changed to one he had labelled ‘pensive’.

“What is it Clara?” he asked, the joy in being able to see her overwritten by a clear ‘something’ that was bothering her. 

Clara’s eyes flickered to his face and away as she remained silent for a moment before meeting them again. 

“Now if only we could fix me,” she uttered softly and The Doctor could see the pain in her eyes.

He brought his hand to her temple again, brushing his fingers across her cheek from temple to jaw in what he hoped was a soothing movement. 

“I burdened you with this, I was selfish,” he admitted as he watched the path of his hand before dropping it and meeting her eyes. 

Clara took his hand in her own and brought it to her lips, kissing it lightly before holding it to her chest and meeting his eyes. 

“I don’t blame you,” she began, “I could never be mad at you for that,” she confirmed, as she held his hand tighter to convey the words unsaid, the _‘how could I blame you for loving me so much you saved me from death’_. 

Clara paused again, swallowing before continuing, “But unless The Matrix comes back online or Time Lord history progresses far enough to fix it or create a new one, I am literally _never_ going to die,” she stated as the enormity of it washed over her again, squeezing at her gut and making her head spin. “Even you will die eventually,” she pointed out. 

The Doctor smiled sadly, “Not for a while yet,” he replied with an attempted lightheartedness that fell flat. 

“I’m not saying I want to die now,” Clara explained, “but I’ve been around Ashildr long enough to know what it does to you.”

The Doctor cleared his throat, “Being immortal is no different than being human. You take one day at a time and make the most of it,” he offered, meeting her eyes and offering what consolation he could, “Ashildr forgot that for a while,” he pointed out. 

Clara nodded, she knew he was right but the vastness of her life still stretched before her, cold and unknowable. 

The Doctor pulled his hand to him, bringing hers with it and brought it to his lips before meeting her eyes again. 

“You are my impossible girl - you are going to be astonishing,” he affirmed with a smile.

Clara tried to return his smile, pushing away her fears and focusing on this third chance and all the possibilities it held. She shifted herself closer to The Doctor and let him wrap his arms around her as she put her hand on his chest concentrating on the double beat of his heart beneath her hand. 

* * * 

Ashildr left the Diner, acknowledging Oswin and a projection of Nina seated outside watching the sun set behind the broken globe of the city. 

She found a piece of debris by an outcropping and sat on it watching the same view, oranges turning to purple, glass shards shattering rainbows haphazardly. 

The purples deepened and spread before her as a young man she recognised from the Gallifreyian Front came up to her, a cup in each hand. 

“Drink?” he offered. 

“Name?” she replied defensively, arching her eyebrows. 

He sat down beside her, seemingly unfazed. 

“Tylan,” he replied as he gestured to her with one of the cups while taking a sip from the other. 

She took it with a nod and took a sip, it was sweet chased by bitter and most definitely alcoholic. 

“I thought Gallifreyians were above intoxication?” she asked.

Tylan chuckled, “The _Time Lords_ …,” he emphasised, “…like to think they are but even most of them imbibe,” he replied taking another sip. 

“Ashildr right?” he asked when her name was still not forthcoming. 

Ashildr nodded, trying to read this young boy who physiologically was probably older than she appeared. 

She watched Tylan’s gaze as it shifted from her face to Oswin and Nina. 

“So who is that with the twin?” he asked gesturing towards Nina. 

“Right, twins,” Ashildr confirmed hesitantly as she took another sip. 

“Oh I know it’s some complicated thing with them being doubles from different times but twins sounds easier no?” Tylan offered. 

Ashildr nodded, a thin smile forming on her face at his unassuming manner. 

“So the other one - she a hologram too?” he inquired.

“A projection of the Tardis,” she confirmed, “the Diner not the Blue Box,” she clarified. 

A look of confusion crossed his face but he nodded, taking another sip before turning back to her. 

“So what about you?” he asked with faltering self-confidence.

“You mean ‘What is a girl like you doing in a place like this?’” Ashildr replied with an incredulous laugh. 

A genuine smile cracked through Tylan’s self-assurance and Ashildr found herself thinking he was not unattractive. His manner reminded her of a highwayman she had grown to appreciate. She shook the nostalgia from her head, she must be tired. 

“I mean it,” Tylan replied, dropping his guard enough to let his interest show through, “You look young but your eyes have seen more than I would’ve thought possible for this body,” he replied, scanning the length of her body before returning to her face. “How did you get those eyes?” he asked, leaning in to her. 

“I think you might be intoxicated,” Ashildr deflected. 

Tylan backed up, “You would not be wrong,” he affirmed with a brash smile before pausing, “But I’m also curious,” he continued softer, “You’ve travelled in a Tardis - you must’ve seen many amazing things,” he hypothesised. 

“Maybe some other night,” Ashildr replied standing and handing him back the now empty cup, “Thank you for the company,” she added before turning back to the Diner. 

“Some other night then? How about tomorrow?” he called after her. 

An unexpected smile spread across her face but she tamped it down before turning back to him, “Maybe,” she replied noncommittally. 

Tylan nodded, “Ok. I’ll be here tomorrow night then,” he affirmed, “…in case you’re free,” he teased with a wink. 

Ashildr turned away again and crossed the rest of the distance to the Diner, hoping her face was not as red as it felt. 

* * *

The conversation again devolved into noise and The Doctor wondered how much of his ability to solve disputes relied on his name, which meant almost nothing here anymore, and the technology at his disposal, which he could not use for fear of seeming biased to the Time Lords. He looked beyond his immediate circumstances, the table with tent pylons surrounding it in case of inclement weather, and to the horizon, scanning the colours he appreciated even more with his essentially new eyes. 

He continued to look around him as those in his immediate vicinity continued to argue and saw Ashildr directing some Gallifreyians with debris removal. 

“Ashildr,” he called as a thought occurred to him. 

Those around him fell silent as Ashildr turned to him and approached as he beckoned. 

When she was within conversation distance he spoke again, “What are the first things to establish to ensure successful negotiations?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. It was a risk but she had held kingdoms together as well as The Street and he trusted she would know what to do. 

"Mutual accountability," she replied without hesitation. 

The Doctor raised his eyebrows but nodded, "how so?"

"By agreeing on a set of interim rules to stop things like the execution of a member of the Front because he stole bread," Ashildr continued aptly. 

"Theft in a time of war is punishable by death," The General replied evenly. 

"We're in a cease fire," Lucian answered exasperatedly, "There was no warning," he added moving his gaze from The General to Ashildr and The Doctor. 

"But it wasn't unexpected was it?" Ashildr replied, cocking her head to the side for a moment before a knowing smile crossed her lips, "If I were a cynic I might say it was a suicide mission in order to gain emotional leverage," she offered raising one eyebrow. 

Lucian began to protest but The General silenced him. 

"She's right, we should each have expectations of behaviour," The General agreed. 

"I would start with the Articles of Peace, chapter 53 of the Shadow proclamation charter,” Ashildr offered. 

The General shifted her gaze before responding again, “With the Matrix down our readout screens aren’t working,” she pointed out. 

“Would the library have a copy?” Tylan pipped up from the back of the Gallifreyian Front’s contingent. 

Ashildr halted the smile that began to cross her lips as The General sent Lieutenant Deirae and Tylan into town to access the library.

“We’ll need paper too,” Ashildr requested as they left, “and something to write with.” 

Tylan turned to nod in a businesslike manner before continuing to depart with Lieutenant Deirae. 

“The old-fashioned way,” The Doctor commented to Ashildr approvingly, watching Tylan and Deirae make their way to the city as those around them devolved into conversation. 

“I have great respect for your efforts, despite the over the top self-deprecating theatrics usually involved,” Ashildr replied with a smug smile as she stepped away from the table, The Doctor following. 

“And a Quantum Shade in the shape of a raven isn’t theatrical in the least,” The Doctor cut in, raising his eyebrows. 

Ashildr internally winced. 

“I admit I have my moments,” she replied calmly, “But The Street had it’s rules too. I’ve probably brokered peace in more lives than even you Doctor,” she added honestly raising one eyebrow as if begging him to disagree. 

“Oh that is what I am counting on,” he replied, meeting her eyes as she dropped her eyebrow. 

The Doctor halted and stared at her for a moment as Ashildr held his gaze, too stubborn to look away despite trying to hide the pain of all her failures - Clara’s death being only one of many. 

The Doctor broke the gaze first, turning to the horizon line and continuing their path as Ashildr fell into step beside him. They wandered in a wide arc around the table, each lost in their own thoughts until the silence started to feel pregnant with things unsaid. 

Ashildr paused, touching The Doctor’s arm lightly to halt him and The Doctor turned, meeting her eyes and an honest vulnerability he had not seen since she was fully human. 

“How do you do it?” she asked self-consciously. 

“Do what?” he asked with a concerned softness. 

“Live,” she replied. “How do you continue on like you haven't seen the same thing happen over and over?” she expanded. 

An expression of pain crossed his face to be replaced by a stoic half-smile as he met her eyes.

“You find something or someone that makes everything new again,” he replied, his voice gravely as the memories of his companions and friends flashed before him, “You find something to live for,” he added clearing his throat and continuing to walk again. 

“Doesn’t that hurt?” she responded, falling into step beside him. 

“Yes,” he agreed without meeting her eyes. 

The silence extended and they made it half way around the negotiation table before Ashildr spoke again. 

“I didn’t realise how much I had gotten used to the long game, that aim to achieve something,” she considered looking up to him before turning away again, “The Tardis is wonderful but I think it is making me feel even more disconnected, like I’m floundering about looking for the next high,” she tried to explain. “It doesn’t feel like a life, not for me,” she clarified before hesitantly meeting his eyes again and finding only compassion. 

“It isn’t for everyone,” he admitted before he went silent again, a thought eating away at him as he knitted his brows. 

“I used to have a card for this,” he muttered and Ashildr turned to him quizzically. 

“I’m sorry, for making you immortal,” he started again, “No one should have that power, definitely not me and I’ve burdened you with this,” he stated, his voice distant and sad as he considered Clara. “It was selfish,” he added softer, unsure if he was talking to Ashildr or reprimanding himself.

Ashildr shook her head and stopped to make him face her, “We’re too old for regrets now. I’ve seen some wonderful things - learned more than whole civilisations. There are worse things,” she tried to mitigate. 

“It doesn’t always feel that way though,” The Doctor replied softly, staring into the distance and remembering the moments in the confession dial when he realised no matter what he did Clara would still be dead. 

He shook the thought from his head and began to walk again before turning to Ashildr beside him, “You could stay here,” he suggested, “If the Matrix comes back on line it will be a race of near-immortals. Until then it seems they may need your help more than mine,” he offered, “Either way you could have a goal.”

Ashildr looked back at him pensively, “Perhaps,” she replied. 

They fell silent again, making it back to the table as Tylan and Lieutenant Deirae returned. 

* * *

Oswin was reviewing Nina’s log as Ashildr stepped from the hallway into the console room. 

“Where have you guys been today?” she asked as she fell back into one of the recently created armchairs. 

“Ninvot Hash Yumin,” Oswin replied, the casualness with which she named the odd planet reminding her just how lucky she was. Her eyes flicked between the log, the external camera screen and her friend, changing the subject before Ashidlr was able to comment. “Tylan is out there again. You do know he waits for you almost every night,” Oswin remarked, raising a knowing eyebrow in her friend’s direction.

Ashildr sighed, sitting up straighter, “I know,” she affirmed, folding her hands in front of her. 

“Go see him. At least tell him no,” she reasoned. 

Ashildr’s stared past Oswin for a moment before snapping to her face. She stood, sighing again. 

“I suppose he deserves at least that much,” she agreed as she made her way back out of the Tardis. 

Tylan’s face lit up when he saw her walking towards him, although he tried to quickly cover it up. 

“You’re a busy woman,” he teased with a grin as she came over and sat beside him. 

“Tylan,” she started, and his face fell at the tone of her voice. 

“You can’t be seen with me now that you’re fronting the negotiations,” he pre-empted. 

Ashildr nodded, hating the hurt look on his face. 

“When it’s over can I take you to dinner?” he pushed with an impish smile. 

Ashildr look away for a moment, shaking her head at his persistence. She wanted to say no, knew she should say no, but there was something about him she could not upset any further. 

“When this is over _I’ll_ take _you_ to dinner,” she affirmed, knowing her attempt to maintain control could easily be taken as a romantic gesture in itself. 

Tylan’s face broke into a large smile and he nodded. 

“Deal,” he agreed. 

Ashildr nodded, standing up.

“Until then,” she replied as she turned from him and made her way back to Nina. 

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

Two months later Clara entered the recently habitable library and in stood in the doorway of a reading room. She watched as The Doctor stood before a group of young Gallifreyians from both sides, taking them through a recreational mathematics puzzle. He was clearly enjoying himself as the children followed him through mathematical and theoretical loops that Clara mostly followed to arrive as some intentionally ridiculous conclusion. When the group had stopped laughing he looked up and met Clara’s eyes. 

“Time to go,” he dismissed and as they began to disperse he halted a young boy of about nine. 

“It should work now,” he explained as he reached for an object leaning against the wall and handed it to the boy. It looked like a disjointed conglomeration of metal forged in the shape of an instrument but Clara knew it was a self-amplifying electric guitar fashioned from scraps and pieces he had salvaged. The boy took it gratefully, immediately strumming out a few cords. 

“Thank you,” he responded effusively, holding the guitar to him tightly and leaving the room, nodding politely to Clara as he passed. 

After he departed Clara entered the room, “Saving Gallifrey with puzzles and punk rock?” she joked as their hands met and held between them. 

“Can you think of a better way?” he replied, a knowing smile on his lips. 

Clara shook her head as they exited the room and fell into step walking down the hallway. 

They turned to left and entered the room Oswin had co-opted as a workshop for the left over Time Lord technology. They were immediately greeted with the sight of a dozen people of all ages working either singularly or in pairs over various pieces of technology - some leaning over functioning computers writing lines of Gallifreyian code. 

Oswin bustled between them all, calm despite the chaos around her, making suggestions or listening to theories. 

Clara let go of The Doctor’s hand and wound her way through the room to Oswin while The Doctor watched the activities of those closest to him with curiosity. The pair directly in front of him were working on a wireless transmitter but seemed stuck. He leaned over, pointing out a possible problem and their eyes lit up with renewed excitement as they started picking bits apart to adjust it. 

He took a step back from the couple, now focused on their task, and looked up to see Oswin shaking her head at Clara before nodding when Clara spoke again.

Clara turned and made her way back to The Doctor. 

“She’ll meet us there,” she explained to The Doctor’s unasked question as she approached. 

He nodded before following Clara out of the room. 

Hundreds were already seated when they arrived at the enclosure set up not far from the negotiation table, all functional recording devices buzzing around. It had been Ashildr’s idea - in order to sustain peace everyone needed to know the decisions that had been made. 

The ceremony was long but necessarily so as the newly-elected council took turns reading out the new laws of Gallifrey. Although there was a fair deal of legalese involved the main tenets broke down to the following: A council would be formed of three from each side for the next hundred years or as long as the sides still existed in cultural memory, whichever happened first, the seventh member to be agreed by the other six. If The Matrix was ever restored enough to allow regeneration potential this would be done by fair distribution of all citizens. What was left of the city would be open to those who had previously not been allowed to live within it’s borders and while the shell would be repaired to enable the structural fortitude of the buildings within, it would be permeable at ground level to allow the free passage of people. 

The Doctor nodded at significant points, smiling at Ashildr as her confidence radiated across the gathering. 

After the ceremony tables were brought out and filled with as much varied food as could be acquired without affecting the winter store. 

Clara and The Doctor left their seats, meeting up with Oswin who had been only a few rows behind them, and they milled about the tables as Ashildr headed in their direction. Ashildr made her way through the crowd slowly, turning politely to those who requested her attention and speaking to them for a moment before continuing on her path. 

“Congratulations,” The Doctor commended when Ashildr finally approached. 

She nodded, brushing it off, “Thanks. The real work is now I’m afraid,” she replied. 

“I hear you’ve been voted as the tie-breaking member,” Oswin pre-empted, her eyebrows raised teasingly. 

“Unofficially. The council doesn’t officially meet until the day after tomorrow,” Ashildr replied, unable to keep the smile from her eyes.

“I can think of no one better,” Clara affirmed as she hugged her previous traveling companion, a wetness building in her eye. 

“It’s not goodbye, I’ll be here - you can visit,” she offered and Clara nodded.

“We will,” she replied looking up at The Doctor who nodded in agreement. 

“So we can leave?” The Doctor asked raising his eyebrows, the excitement of finally being released from his promise tainted by the guilt of leaving what they had started to build here. 

“Whenever you want,” The General chimed in as she came up behind Ashildr, “You stayed until there was peace as you said you would,” she added before extending her hand, “Thank you Doctor, for all you have done to ensure it.”

“It wasn’t really down to me,” he replied, nodding in Ashildr’s direction as they shook hands. 

The General smiled, unwilling to contradict him as she turned to thank Clara and Oswin for their various efforts on behalf of her people. 

She turned from Oswin to Ashildr, “I think there is someone who wants to see you,” she pointed out, her eyes falling on Tylan in the distance. The General smiled as Ashildr followed her gaze, a slight blush creeping on her cheeks. 

“Thank you General,” she replied shaking her hand, “I will see you the day after next for the real work,” she quipped as The General departed. 

“Go,” Clara encouraged, reading the fear barely visible on Ashildr’s face. 

Ashildr met her eyes and nodded, thanking her friends again before departing. 

Oswin turned to Clara and The Doctor, “I’m going back to the workshop to check on a few things but Tylan hadn’t been off planet and I said she could take Nina, if she isn’t back can I stay on Idris tonight?” she asked. 

“Of course,” Clara replied, turning to The Doctor who nodded in agreement. 

Oswin nodded before turning towards the library, jaunting towards the building with a palpable excitement for the projects within.

Clara turned to The Doctor. 

“So what do you think?” she asked with a bright smile, “You and me? Time and Space?” she asked, her smile dissolved into a smirk as she offered her hand, “Don’t even argue,” she instructed. 

The Doctor raised his eyebrows in mock disapproval as he recognised his own words, uttered a lifetime ago, and Clara giggled. 

His mock-disapproval faded and he took her hand and leaned in close to her ear. 

Clara’s eyes widened in shock as he pulled away and met her eyes. 

“Is that your name? Does that mean we’re married?” Clara asked, confusion and excitement laced in her voice. 

“If you want to be,” The Doctor replied with a broad smile, watching the confusing melange of emotions remain on Clara’s face. “There is usually a bit of a ceremony but we can do that too,” he added, watching her face carefully for any response, worried he had done something wrong. 

As the words sunk in a slow smile formed across Clara’s face, brightening as she threw her arms around his neck. The Doctor leaned over just a bit in response as he cautiously wrapped his arms around her. 

“Of course I want to be,” she replied softly into his neck before disentangling herself and taking his hand as they walked back to the Tardis. 

* * * 

A FEW DAYS LATER

The Doctor rounded the corner of the library’s basement level, swinging his guitar from behind him into his hands as he followed the cacophony of odd rhythms and instruments running through scales. 

He played a simple riff as he approached the room which echoed oddly in the hallway. The instruments quieted as he rounded the final corner to see the study area transformed into a mini auditorium, the sound quality of the area improved by various pieces of scrap. 

He stepped into the room and turned to the makeshift stage to see a couple of his students standing with a few slightly older Gallifreyians, one of whom bore the tortured eyes of a Time Lord. The Doctor played the riff again, connecting himself to one of the speakers in the room as the others joined in one by one. 

The drummer was the last to join in and The Doctor took a few steps to the side to see the young girl, bass pedal altered to she could reach it as she began a speedy tempo he fought to chase. 

The chords aligned before harmonising, melodic rock with a heavy bass line. The harmonies grew increasingly complex and The Doctor kept his own line as he watched the owner of the guitar he had fixed concentrate in much the same way as he did during recreational mathematics. 

He held his cord, jamming the whammy bar as the others backtracked on their lines until they sustained parallel notes, the drum speed slowing until it’s natural conclusion as the guitars, basses and keyboard faded. 

“Sounds good, keep it up,” The Doctor affirmed smiling as they turned to each other, the excitement palpable. 

He turned and left before anyone replied, the young boy with the newly repaired guitar watching him depart with a confused frown on his lips. 

* * * 

Oswin could hear the music below her and smiled in spite of the distraction. It made it feel more like a real civilisation and less of a recovering war zone. 

She heard a light tap on the edge of the door and looked up to see Clara, a pensive smile on her face. 

“Has Nina gotten anywhere with The Matrix?” she asked as she entered the room, making her way amongst tables of scrap electrics and metals before standing in front of Oswin. 

Oswin shook her head.

“Nina has been feeding it all the information she has in an attempt to repair the gap but there hasn’t been much of a response. And of course we don’t know how the Matrix read time so we’re not really sure how to go about it. It’s all a lot of guessing,” Oswin replied as she fiddled with the piece in her hand before putting it down. 

“I imagine you’ll be leaving soon?” she asked, trying to meet Clara’s eyes but unable to as her own widened with emotion. 

“It’s funny, he’s wanted to leave for so long but as soon as we could we both found reasons to stay for a few more days,” Clara replied with a sombre chuckle, “But yes, tomorrow,” she affirmed nodding, “You?” she asked, looking up at Oswin hesitantly as the reality of it caught in her throat. 

“Well we’ve never really ‘stayed’,” Oswin joked meeting Clara’s eyes for the briefest of moments and Clara saw loss reflected in them, “But we’ll probably be based here for a while, at least until Nina stops being fascinated by The Matrix.”

“So never then,” Clara joked, her eyes shifting, unable to face her double’s feelings or her own. It was possible they would meet in a hundred places in the future but it was also possible they would never cross paths again. 

Oswin chuckled as she nodded. 

“Besides, someone has to keep an eye on Ashildr,” she joked. 

“You may need both,” Clara teased. 

“Oh I have more than two,” Oswin replied, grinning.

Clara took a step forward and rested her hand on her friend’s arm before leaning in to hug her. 

“Take care of yourself,” she uttered blandly but honestly, unsure how to encompass everything she wanted to say. 

“You too,” Oswin replied. 

Clara released her and nodded, turning before brushing away the wetness in the corner of her eyes. 

* * * 

She went to the Cloisters next, weaving her way through a path she knew well to find Nina, wires feeding into the central port of The Matrix. 

She went over to the Diner, which had compacted itself in the smaller space, and trailed her fingers around it’s outer wall before pushing the door open further and heading inside. She walked through the diner to the console room and traced her fingers along the controls before looking up, knowing Nina could hear her. 

“Thank you for taking care of us,” she uttered to the sentient machine around her. “And I know you will anyway but look out for Oswin and Ashildr for me?” she asked. 

The Tardis replied with a number of beeps that sounded both affirmative and sad in their own way. 

“Thank you, you too,” Clara replied with a sad smile, nodding and letting her fingers fall off the console as she left and headed back to Idris. 

* * * 

Ashildr was sitting outside the police box when Clara returned and stood as she approached. 

“I know The Doctor isn’t one for goodbyes but I wanted to catch you before you left,” Ashildr offered as she stood. 

“You’ve done well here,” Clara commented trying to keep them off topic. 

Ashildr nodded, “We’ll get there. Thank you for everything you’ve done - not just here but the traveling…,” Ashildr trailed off.

Clara nodded and pulled her into a hug, “We’ll see you soon okay?” she uttered as she released her, her hands remaining on Ashildr’s upper arms as she met the other woman’s eyes.

“Be happy,” she instructed as her grip tightened for a moment before releasing. 

Ashildr nodded and watched as Clara walked past her to the Tardis, “You too,” she responded. 

Clara opened the door to the Police Box before turning back, “Oh there will be no stopping me,” she replied with a cocky smile before turning back into the Tardis and shutting the door behind her. 

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay to these final chapter(s) - my beta has been sick. Hope you enjoy!

“Are you ready to go?” The Doctor asked as he placed his guitar in it’s case on the upper level and strolled down the stairs, watching Clara flick the switches and turn the knobs of the console with ease. 

He came up behind her and leaned into the scent of her hair, brushing it aside to kiss her neck as he wrapped his arms around her. 

Clara twisted in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“So where to Mr Oswald?” she asked with an amused half smile. 

The Doctor raised his eyebrows in mock-incredulity. 

“Well I suppose you could be Doctor Oswald,” Clara teased, her face breaking into a smile. 

He watched her for a moment, taking in the realness of her in his arms smiling at him. 

“I don’t want to be anywhere else,” he breathed as he focused on her deep brown eyes, allowing himself to drown in them. 

Clara felt the waves of his emotion as their eyes met. Without looking away she dropped her arm to the handbrake, sending them drifting in the time vortex before her arm returned and she pulled him closer. Their lips met, the taste no less intoxicating for it's frequency, as The Doctor lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around him as he shifted her halfway around the console and set her down on the telepathic interface. 

“Fewer knobbly bits,” he explained when she broke the kiss to look at him curiously.

“Not that I mind…,” Clara began as his lips made a path down her neck, “…but if you were going for less knobbly the bedroom is just down the stairs,” Clara pointed out.

“Too far,” he replied between kisses as his hands found the edge of her oversized sweater and slid beneath it before pulling it over her head. 

Clara arched an eyebrow at him as he met her eyes briefly while divesting her of her sweater. She was about to point that the bedroom was only a few steps further but The Doctor’s mouth found that spot on her neck that never ceased to send shocks to her core and the thought vanished. 

She tried to pull his body closer to relieve him of some of his layers but while he shimmied out of his coat obligingly enough Clara was continually frustrated by the angle on which she was perched. 

She felt practiced fingers slide beneath her undershirt, rucking it up as she allowed it to come over her head. Her bra was next and she chuckled as The Doctor shot her a proud smile when he got it released the first time, the chuckle catching in her throat as his mouth wrapped around her right nipple, teasing it lightly with his tongue. 

Clara renewed her attempts at contact, sliding her foot between The Doctor's legs and feeling the hardness there but he side-stepped her attempt.

"You're no fun," she argued. 

He ceased his attentions and stood up straight before leaning into her with his hands on either side, his gaze brokering no argument as she felt her abandoned body smoulder with the heat of it. 

She bit her bottom lip and took advantage of his proximity to pull at his shirt as he raised his arms and helped her before leaning in to kiss her, patiently exploring her mouth as Clara’s hands found his waist band. She had unfastened his belt and the button of his trousers when he broke the kiss again, dropping to his knees before her. He kissed her bare knee, his fingers making a slow path under her skirt as he traced up her inner thigh. Her skirt rucked up as his fingers shifted to her hip and lopped over the fabric of her panties, Clara lifting herself as he pulled them down and off. He nudged over her other knee as his lips followed the general path of his fingers, kisses intermixed with light nips and the occasional tease of his tongue. 

Clara lowered herself on the console as she felt The Doctor’s lips make their way closer to the soaking ache between her thighs, biting her lip again as she fought to maintain a modicum of control over her own body. When he reached the apex of her thighs Clara felt him exhale, his breath sending shivers through her body as it tensed in expectation. She felt the moan vibrate in her throat as his mouth met her centre, his tongue pressing in long strokes before he took her clit in his mouth and sucked. 

Clara rode the wave of need, her body bucking against him as she felt the welcome intrusion of his fingers as one and then two as slid deep inside her. He released her clit to the cooler air as he worked his fingers inside her, joined by a third. Clara groaned in frustration at the absence of his mouth but perched her feet on his shoulders forcing a faster rhythm to his fingers. She could feel the pressure building inside of her, trying to fight her coming orgasm to make him stand and fill her but as his tongue wrapped around her clit once again she felt herself cascade around him.

When she regained use of her voice she commanded him to stand, his wet fingers sliding out of her as he met her eyes, his cocky smirk fading as he met the dangerous want still in her eyes. 

She ran her hands along his chest teasing ever lower, trying to pace her own dual need to satisfy him and feel him inside her. She unzipped his trousers, pushing them and his shorts over his hips as her right hand went to his neck, pulling him into a crushing kiss. Their mouths explored and then ravaged as Clara’s other hand found the length of him, stroking up and down as it hardened further within her grasp. Her right hand tangled in his hair, trying to deepen the kiss as a way to offset the aching need between her thighs that the feel of his cock in her hand was only intensifying. 

The Doctor felt his own control slipping and shifted his hips closer. Clara released her hold momentarily before grasping his aim and guiding him to her. He teased her opening, gently probing inside her as Clara’s heels wrapped around his waist and dug into his backside, forcing him deeper.

They met in grunting, sweaty, groaning urgency as they fought to pace themselves to the other’s desire. Clara’s left hand fell to the console and she grasped a comfortable but cool edge as the sweet friction of their bodies blotted out all thoughts beyond this one perfect thing. She felt the beginning of her orgasm as if it was happening all around her, her skin tingling with it even as she was driven ever closer. She felt him come and the pleasure around her increased until it felt like it was seeping in through her pores, like the telepathic link but all over, as she too succumbed. 

When she opened her eyes she was leaning forward against The Doctor’s shoulder. She leaned back and met his eyes. 

“So how long have you wanted to do that?” she asked with a knowing half-smile.

He flashed her a smile, “Have you on the console? Oh longer than you think but not as long as you’d like to think,” he replied with a wink as his gaze caught something odd on the screen to his left. 

He shifted Clara higher on the console, pulled up his shorts and trousers and stepped away from her to have a better look. 

Clara hopped off and threw her oversized sweater back on before standing at The Doctor’s side and reading the screen. 

“What is it?” she asked, taking in his perplexed look as he read the quickly scrolling circles of Gallifreyian. 

“Did you have your hands in the telepathic interface at any point?” he asked, still reading the screen. 

Clara’s eyes widened as she tried to remember where her hands had been perched, “I might have. Is that why it felt funny at the end? Like I was orgasming along my skin? I assumed you did a thing,” Clara replied. 

The Doctor shook his head but continued to look at the readings. 

“I didn’t do anything but Idris must have fed it back into the telepathic field. I felt it too,” he explained. 

“Is she okay?” Clara asked, the concern evident in her voice as she watched the Gallifreyian scroll by uselessly. She had picked up a little of the written language during their stay but the speed in which it scrolled made it unreadable. 

The Doctor turned to her with a bounce before doing up his belt and walking past her to his shirt, picking it up and pulling it over his head. 

“She’s fine but she might’ve figured out how to reboot The Matrix,” The Doctor replied as he started flicking switches around the console. 

Clara came up behind him and put a hand on his arm. He turned to face her incredulous expression, sighing before explaining. 

“So Nina has been taking readings from The Matrix, which we think is in some sort of looped self-test. She and Idris link now and again to share information and, ‘computing power’ for lack of a better word so Idris has the results of all of Nina’s tests and now thinks that if we modulate the frequency of your brainwave in bliss-state we might be able to force The Matrix to reboot and expand the parameters of it’s perception,” He explained excitedly, his eyes dancing as he turned from Clara again and made a few adjustments to the console. 

“So we’re going back to Gallifrey to share my orgasm with a super-computer,” Clara deadpanned. 

The Doctor looked up and nodded, “Except The Matrix is essentially a store of Time Lord consciousnesses,” he pointed out. 

“So we’re going back to Gallifrey to share my orgasm with a bunch of dead Time Lords,” she revised evenly, raising an eyebrow. 

The Doctor looked at her intently for a moment.

“Am I missing a thing?” he asked.

Clara was silent for a moment, turning her attention to the console before looking up at him again. 

“I know I’m romanticising it but that moment is ours, it isn’t something I want to share with thousands of dead strangers,” she tried to explain. 

“It’s just the electric output of your brainwaves Clara,” he clarified, trying to make her more comfortable. 

Clara nodded, “I know,” she replied, trying to understand his ability to disconnect from it while considering the reasons behind her own feelings. 

“It just feels odd, like I’m being whored out to the thousands,” she continued as her tone changed, “But I suppose I just had sex with an alien on his 13th body - who I happen to be in a temporally-polygamous relationship with - and, it seems, a sentient space ship/time machine, despite having actually died billions of years ago. I should adjust my idea of ‘odd,” she postulated, forcing a half smile. 

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at ‘whored,’ pursing his lips. 

“I can try to create the same output manually if you would prefer,” The Doctor offered, still not understanding Clara’s aversion but not wanting to make her uncomfortable. 

Clara laughed, picturing him masturbating with one hand in the console while knowing full well that was not what he meant. 

He looked at her oddly and she tried to compose her expression. 

“No, it’s fine,” she relented, still trying to force the amused smile from her face, “Just don’t tell everyone where we got the frequency,” she requested. 

“Deal,” The Doctor agreed as his face broke into a smile and he flicked a few more switches before deactivating the handbrake. 

Clara nodded before turning from The Doctor to get herself properly dressed once again. 

* * * 

"So orgasmic brainwaves huh?" Oswin teased as she sat beside Clara on the stools of Nina’s diner. 

Clara's face shaded pink, "I suppose I should know better than asking him to not say - he got very excited by the idea." 

“Pun intended?" Oswin asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Clara looked around unsuccessfully for something soft to throw at her, ”Oh you’re lucky there are no pillows in here,” she threatened. 

"He didn't say anything,” Oswin clarified when she had stopped laughing, “Nina figured it out.”

“Ah,” Clara replied, wondering how easy it would be for others. She knew she was being selfish - if this allowed Time Lord technology and thus Gallifreyian civilisation to recover before poverty claimed many of it’s citizens it would be worth any embarrassment on her part. 

Oswin had patched the console feed through to the diner television set and they both turned their attention to it, watching the Doctor outside the Diner setting up emitters on each side of The Matrix core, one linked to Nina and another to Idris. 

They saw Ashildr approach The Doctor followed by a teenage boy and Clara got up from her seat, making eye contact with Oswin before exiting to greet her friend, Oswin a few steps behind her. 

“…son Sam,” Clara heard as she exited Nina behind the newcomers. Her face fell. 

“We’ve only been gone half an hour,” Clara exclaimed as she looked over the boy who was at least 16. 

Ashildr and Sam turned to face her as she stepped away from the Tardis. 

“It’s been 22 years,” Ashildr corrected. 

Sam extended his hand to Clara, “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he offered good-naturedly as Clara took his hand and shook it. 

Oswin came out behind Clara. “Hi Sam,” she greeted casually and he waved with a smile. 

Clara turned to look at Oswin oddly for a moment, feeling the loss of years in that one moment before turning back to Ashildr and glancing between her and Sam. 

“So your father is…?” she asked, looking at the boy for any indication in his features. 

“Tylan,” Ashildr replied with a hint of sadness as she met Clara’s eyes pointedly.

“He died ten years back,” Sam added. 

Clara’s eyes flicked to Sam when he spoke before returning to Ashildr, heartbroken that her friend had finally allowed herself this only to loose him so soon. 

“Building collapse,” Ashildr added, swallowing hard as she pulled her son loosely to her, his back against her chest as she wrapped an arm around his front and kissed him on the side of his head before releasing him. 

Sam’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment but he allowed his mother her small comfort with the fortitude of a teenaged saint, stepping away once she released him. 

Ashildr turned to The Doctor once again, “So you think this will work?” she asked. 

“Should do,” The Doctor replied, “Maybe not immediately but it should interrupt the self-referent loop,” he confirmed as he connected the final wire and stood. 

Ashildr nodded and The Doctor turned to the emitters, making a few further adjustments before turning back to the group. 

“Ready?” 

* * * 

It had taken a few weeks for The Matrix to respond to the transmission but it slowly reactivated, allowing the Gallifreyians access to the centuries of technology created by their forefathers, including the ability to regenerate. In order to combat overcrowding and the problems that lead to recent civil war The Council, which had changed twice in the intervening years due to Ashildr’s push for ten yearly elections, decided to hold a lottery of it’s citizens and every year another Gallifreyian was given the ability to regenerate regardless of past affiliation. 

Sam was given the ability to regenerate when he was 27, becoming a council member soon after, while Ashildr continued to help the civilisation grow both in and out of official capacity. When she wasn’t working she traveled, on Idris or Nina or sometimes on her own Tardis, Sam joining her when he could as she taught him all the skills she had picked up in her long life. 

Oswin and Nina travelled widely but made a point to be back on Gallifrey soon after they had left, helping rebuild even as they built their own lives on the once war-torn planet, Nina extending the range of her interface until she was able to exist quite far from her central core.

Clara and The Doctor continued to travel but made a point of returning often, usually back for dinner, until both the Tardis and the small cottage they built on the outskirts of the central city were equally home. 

* * *


	16. Epilogue

The Police Box door opened and Clara entered, dragging The Doctor’s bloody and bruised form. She carefully released his body before running to the console, typing and flipping before releasing the handbrake and sending them into the vortex. 

She returned to The Doctor, sitting down and pulling his head into her lap. 

“What do you need me to do?” she asked, taking his hand as she felt the wetness in the corner of her eyes. 

“Will you still love my new face?” he asked weakly, trying to open his eyes as he managed a half smile. 

“You better make it a good one,” Clara replied with attempted joviality as fear gripped her heart, “Are you sure there is nothing we can do?” she pushed. 

The Doctor shook his head slowly, “It’s already started,” he voiced, breathing out a glowing yellow Clara remembered from lifetimes ago. 

“What if I don’t want you to go?” Clara uttered, her voice cracking even as she tried to hold herself together. 

He raised his free hand to her cheek, “Remember what I said about the pears,” he muttered before his hand fell and regeneration energy consumed his body. 

Clara could feel the cool heat of it pressing against her skin as The Doctor’s form morphed around her. 

When the light faded the body lying on hers jumped up. It was smaller than his previous form and the clothes bagged oddly as limbs jerked beneath them, tossing around a shock of long red hair. 

“Legs, check, arms, check, eyes, toes, spleen..” the list began, before the softer voice paused and the body turned. 

“I’m female,” The Doctor stated as she turned to face Clara. 

The red hair was framed by a face younger then his previous, perhaps early 40s by human standards and easily considered attractive. 

“It does appear so,” Clara replied as The Doctor’s gaze held hers for a moment, a strand of hair falling in her face. 

“And ginger!,” she exclaimed with a broad smile, “I’ve always wanted to be ginger,” she added. “What do you think, Clara…Clara…Clara,” she asked, doing a twirl as Clara’s name fell from her lips in various intonations, one of them sounding like an echo of the previous face’s Scottish burr. 

Clara wiped the tears forming in the corner of her eyes and nodded, “That’ll do,” she acknowledged, still taking in the new form appreciatively, while trying to overcome the grief in her heart. She knew he wasn’t gone but it was going to take some getting used to. 

The Doctor hopped to her and kissed her on the forehead before bounding around the Tardis console.

“We’re going to have some fun,” she exclaimed releasing the handbrake as the Tardis whirred.


End file.
